Paved with good Intentions
by astala7
Summary: Au, starting at the end of 3th year. Making the acquaintance of Daphne Greengrass and forced to work together with her Harry learns things about wizarding culture he never knew. So many possibilitys he wouldn't ever think of using, so many ressources being left unused. He finds answers to questions he was never meant to ask and slowly his view of he world he though he knew changes.
1. The Hall of Bones

Chapter One - The Hall of Bones

_Weasley scoffed, pointing accusingly at Daphne's standing form. _

_"She's a Slytherin!"_

_"I'm sorry, was that supposed to be offensive?"_

_Daphne G. to Ron W._

* * *

Harry twisted in his sheets, feeling dizzy, blinking up at the dark ceiling of the hospital wing. Somebody had removed his glasses and his vision was blurry as a result, leaving him disoriented and confused.

The door to the room was standing ajar, and from outside hushed voices could be heard. It sounded to Harry like the shrill voice of Madam Pomfrey, speaking to a man with a voice which he could not place... And then came the unmistakable, drawling voice of Professor Snape.

_Snape!_

Harry blinked as it all came back to him in a rush – the Shrieking Shack, Sirius Black, the rat! Pettigrew! And Professor Lupin – he was a werewolf! And the Dementors...

_Sirius!_

He struggled furiously with his sheets, finally freeing himself from them, placing his naked feet onto the cold, stone floor. He immediately pushed them into his wet trainers, found his round spectacles on the bedside table and shakily rose from the bed.

_He had to save Sirius! _But how would he do that? Madam Pomfrey and bloody _Snape_ were blocking the door.

Looking to his side, he caught sight of a tuft of red hair, sticking up from under the duvet. _Oh God – Ron! _Harry thought and swallowed deeply. _Was he alright?_

Suddenly, a hand sneaked up from behind him and placed itself over his mouth. In fright, he twisted around and to his relief found an unharmed, but deeply distressed Hermione there. He hugged her briefly, glad she was alright.

"Hermione, what happened? How's Ron? Is he going to be alright?" he whispered, careful not to attract the attention from the men outside the doors.

"Oh Harry, I'm so sorry!" she mumbled in a thick voice, clearly on the brink of desperation. "Yes, yes, Ron will be alright, it's fine but... But they captured him! Pettigrew is gone and they captured Sirius – he's going to get the Kiss, the Dementors are on their way!"

"_What?_" Harry exclaimed in a furious whisper, gripping her shoulders tightly. "No! No, there _has_ to something we can _do_!"

Hermione didn't look at him. She bowed her head down, chewing on her lip, clearly working something out in her mind.

"Hermione! If you know something... Just – if there's something we can do, even if it seems crazy... _tell me_!"

She looked up, a determined look on her face. She fished out a thin, golden chain out of the neck of her robes and threw it around Harry's neck too. Then, she started fiddling in a very nervous manner with a little, sparkling hour-glass that was hanging from it.

"There is, _maybe_, a possibility we could at least _try_ something... It would be highly illegal of course. We would probably end up in Azkaban if somebody finds out, but... perhaps, all we need is a little bit more _time_..."

Harry just looked at her as if he'd never seen her before, wondering what the _hell _she was talking about. _Of course_ they needed more time, and here she was, wasting it on some weird, golden trinket. They should try to sneak out and save Sirius before it was _too late. _

Hermione turned the hour-glass over once and the dark space of the hospital wing dissolved. Harry had the sensation that he was flying backwards very fast. A blur of colors and shapes rushed past him; his ears were pounding. He tried to yell, but he couldn't hear his own voice –

And then he felt solid ground beneath his feet, and everything came back into focus again.

He was standing next to Hermione in a very close proximity to the Whomping Willow. Its branches were swirling threateningly towards them, and Hermione hurriedly pulled him with her, away from the tree into the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. She pushed him rudely behind a tree, made sure nobody was around and proceeded to check her wristwatch, her frizzy locks of hair dancing wildly in the evening breeze.

Harry was _very_ confused.

"Ten minutes to eleven..." she muttered and hauled the golden chain back into her robes.

"What the _hell_ just happened?" Harry exclaimed, and Hermione immediately hushed him with a finger pressing on his lips.

"Harry, you need to be quiet," she whispered, looking around the tree in the direction of the Whomping Willow again. "We have just traveled one hour back in time with my Time-Turner. It always pushes you back to the roundabout place where you _were_ at that point in time. We should emerge from under the roots of the willow any time now... Aha!" she exclaimed, waving for Harry to crawl closer so that he could see what she was seeing. "There we are, now. Aw, poor Ron. He must be in so much pain..."

"Are you telling me," Harry began, feeling a bit faint. "That we are _here_, behind this tree – and we are out there _too_. At the _same time_?"

Hermione nodded importantly, and slipped closer, so that she could whisper quieter still. "I got this Time-Turner from Professor McGonagall at the beginning of this year. There was no other way for me to make it to all of my classes otherwise, and she had to write all sorts of letters to the Ministry in order for me to get one.

"And she made me _swear_ I would tell no one... Harry, Time Traveling is _very serious business_, and if we were to _see_ ourselves – if the past us saw _us_, I mean – it would be a catastrophe! It can't happen, so we have to be _very _careful. Understand?"

"Yes, sure but..." Harry began, but then froze still in spot. Out from under the Whomping Willow climbed Peter _fucking_ Pettigrew. "I need to catch him," he growled, struggling to stand up. "Before he gets away again..."

"NO!" Hermione screeched, and pulled him down onto the ground again with a strong grip around his left arm. "You _can't be seen_, remember? Seriously, Harry, you _just _promised me to be careful."

"But he's _right there_," Harry argued, staring the other challengingly into the eyes. "I'll just swoop in, grab him by the neck, and-"

"You will do _no such thing_!" Hermione hissed and huffed impatiently. With regret, Harry simply watched as Professor Lupin turned into a werewolf, how Snape suddenly awoke and how Pettigrew transformed into a rat and suddenly was gone. He watched as Sirius dashed after him, and how he himself followed close behind.

"Look, Harry, just trust me," Hermione whispered. "We need another plan. We're just wasting time like this, precious time we _need_ if we are going to save Sirius from the Dementors."

"The Dementors!" Harry realized, his heart starting to hammer painfully against his ribcage. "Oh God, they're coming! We have to do something!"

And with that, he was up on his legs, running with all his might towards the Black Lake where he knew he'd been when the Dementors swooped down on them.

Behind him, Hermione was following in his tracks, spluttering furiously at his idiocy. Harry didn't care – the Dementors were going to kiss Sirius, and he had to _do something_!

Then, on the other side of the lake, he saw himself. He saw his futile attempts at conjuring a Patronus. Tiny flickers of silvery smoke.

Any moment now, someone would save them... But there was a growing suspicion mulling through Harry's mind, leaving him more nervous than he had ever been in his whole life. He had traveled through time. Perhaps... Perhaps, _he_ was the one... What if?

Soon, he realized, it would be too late. And Hermione had almost caught up with him. He needed to act – NOW!

He rushed forwards to the edge of the bank, aimed with his wand at the horde of Dementors and yelled at the top of his lungs:

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

And out of the end of his wand burst, not a swirling cloud of mist, but a blinding, dazzling, silver animal. _A stag_! It charged towards the Dementors, chasing them away. Harry saw his other self look at him in wonder, and then fall to the ground, out cold.

Done with its mission, the stag came galloping back to him, lowering its antlers, looking at him with shimmering silver eyes. _Prongs_, Harry realized. Then, in a swirl of silvery mist, it was gone.

Hermione caught up with him, and promptly pulled him out of sight behind a big oak. "_What did you do?_" she hissed furiously at him, her hair frizzed out of recognition. "I told you to be careful! And you go out of your way to do _this_?"

"Look, Hermione," Harry whispered in a soft tone, holding his hands up as if in surrender. "I _had_ to do it. I just saved out lives – see?" he said, twitching his head in the direction of the Black Lake. "I was supposed to do it, otherwise I wouldn't be standing here right now, would I?"

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, biting her lip, looking as if she was at the brink of tears. "Would you please just _stop and listen_ to me? We need a plan. A real plan, alright? You can't just rush off without me like that."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, feeling very guilty all of a sudden. "I'll be careful from now on – honest!"

Hermione smiled sadly, clearly not believing him at all, but seemed to calm down nonetheless. "Alright, let's think..." she said, frowning deeply. Harry pondered on it too, a blurry sort of plan slowly forming itself in his mind.

"I have an idea," Harry said, unsure himself. "It would be... a risk, I think. But it could work, well, technically..."

"What is your plan?" Hermione pressed, looking impatient.

"The Chamber of Secrets", Harry explained and Hermione instantly gasped in realization. "We need a place for Sirius to hide where no one can find him, right?"

"Harry, that's brilliant," she beamed, but suddenly turned very grim. "But how do we get him there? We don't even know where he is supposed to be taken, look! There's Professor Snape, right now, carrying us away."

"Perhaps..." Harry began, a wild sort of plan forming itself in his mind. "If we had the Marauder's Map... Snape said he'd found it in Professor Lupin's office, right? So, if we get a look at it, we could see where they've taken Sirius. And then..."

"But, Harry, _how _exactly are we going to take him down into the chamber? We'd need to get him to the girls' restroom on the second floor... And the chances of them keeping him anywhere close to there..."

"I know! But I'm desperate, alright?" Harry urged hastily, willing the other to understand and agree. "Either it works, or it doesn't. We just need to do _something, _alright? Look, we send Sirius a message – with that spell that turns the letters into flying little airplanes – and tell him to ask for permission to use the bathroom. See, the Basilisk moved throughout the pipes all over the school, and people were attacked in all sorts of parts of the castle... There has to be more entrances – probably in every restroom. We only found one just because of Moaning Myrtle..."

"But how do we know that for sure?" Hermione interrupted with a frantic expression on her face.

"We... We could just ask Myrtle... We could ask her to check the pipes for us. I'll bring her into the chamber and let her look for a way to the bathroom closest to Sirius – we can look it up on the map... And then I fly through the pipes on a broomstick. Easy!"

Hermione just stared at him for a couple of seconds, looking completely dumbstruck. "That... That's absolutely crazy" she finally said, shaking her head slowly. Then, she sighed. "But it _could_ work if... you're absolutely sure the Basilisk is dead, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am," Harry confirmed quickly, and grabbed hold of her arm to pull her with him back to the castle. "Come on!" he exclaimed, impatient to reach Professor Lupin's office as soon as possible.

"Hold on!" Hermione said, and rapped his head with her wand once. Before Harry could complain, an odd feeling of something sticky running from the top of his head, down over his body made itself known.

"What did you do?" he yelped in surprise, and Hermione immediately hushed him pointedly.

"It's the Disillusionment Charm," she explained, and rapped her own head as well. Her body immediately turned colorless, as if she'd suddenly acquired powers of a chameleon and simply faded into the background. "We can sneak around easier like this."

"Brilliant!" Harry exclaimed, and finally had his way as they both bolted towards the castle, making their way through its halls in record time. Soon, they stood in front of the door leading to their goal. Together, they sneaked into Lupins office, immediately finding the map, lying innocently on their professor's desk, right next to the untouched cup of Wolfsbane Potion. They snatched the map from off the table and looked frantically for Sirius' dot on it. And there it was! Just brought upstairs by Snape, who met Professor McGonagall in the entrance hall. They must have run just past them!

It was strange, seeing another two dots labeled _Harry Potter_ and _Hermione Granger_ being brought up into the hospital wing, while another pair of dots, with the exact same names, were ever so innocently standing on the second floor.

"Alright, they're taking him upstairs," Harry said, folding the map together and placing it into his pocket. "Let's write the letter."

Hermione sat down in the chair behind the desk and immediately started scribble hastily on a sheet of paper. Harry took a deep breath and had a quick look-around. The office was filled with all sorts of interesting instruments. And cages, where monsters for Professor Lupin's classes no doubt had been held. And then, right next to the door, stood just what Harry needed. _Broomsticks_!

He hurriedly walked over and grabbed them by their shafts, he immediately recognized them as Fred and George's. Professor Lupin must have taken them here after he confiscated them a couple of days ago, when the twins had been having a game of catching a Snitch in the middle of the fifth floor corridor.

Looking at the brooms fondly, Harry nodded confidently to himself, letting out a breath he had been holding. Perhaps they could actually do this! Then, Hermione was at his side, giving him a sharp nod. She had finished the letter and they sneaked out into the dark corridors again. Soon they entered the girls' restroom, their ears immediately assaulted by quiet sobbing coming from one of the stalls.

Harry reached into his pocket and took out the Marauder's Map again to have a look at it. "They've taken him to Professor Flitwick's office on the seventh floor," he whispered hurriedly. "We have to make sure the letter reaches him through the window, or else it will be spotted if someone is standing guard."

Hermione nodded at him and went to one of the bathroom windows, opened it and charmed the letter to fly away and complete its mission. _So far, so good_, Harry thought to himself. Now, to the next part of the plan...

"Er, Myrtle?" he asked carefully.

A splosh of water seeped through one of the cabins, the one from which the sobbing had come from.

"Who's there?" cried a girls voice. "Is it you, Peeves? Want to make fun out of me again?"

"It's me, Harry Potter," Harry said hurriedly. "I killed the creature who was responsible for your death... Remember?"

He silently prayed to all gods of the world it would work. A sniff was heard and the shimmery form of the ghost emerged from out of the toilet stall.

"Harry Potter?" she asked in a shaky voice. "I don't see you. Are you finally dead and a ghost too?"

"Er, no", Harry said, waving the Marauder's Map in the air for Myrtle to see. "We're right here, we're invisible."

"Please, Myrtle, we need your help!" Hermione pleaded hurriedly as the ghost came closer to them.

"Need my help?" The pearly white ghost slowly came closer, a suspicious expression on her pale face. "What would you need my help for? And why me? Why not any other ghost?"

"Well, because... Because no other ghost knows the sewer system as you do," Hermione said kindly. "You spend a lot of time there. You know how all the restrooms join together, don't you?"

"Well, I do!" Myrtle said proudly and crossed her arms over her chest. "So what?"

"A friend of mine is in trouble with... er... with some bad guys who always bully him... If he walks around the castle after curfew he will get in trouble. But, if he could use the sewers to get around, we could get him out trough the Chamber of Secrets, which is empty now... You know, the place from where the Basilisk came out at you all those years ago..."

"You want to save your friend, who's bullied by some guys and forced to be up after curfew? And you want to get him out through the sewer system?" Myrtle asked incredulously. Hermione closed her eyes for a few seconds, and Harry cringed in discomfort. Said like that, there was _no way _she would fall for it-

"That's... nice of you," Myrtle suddenly decided, and wiped tears from off her cheeks. "I wish I had had friends like you when I was still alive..."

Hermione coughed to mask her surprise, and smiled up at the hoovering ghost. "So, will you help us, then?"

"I will", Myrtle said generously, clearly enjoying the attention. "Which bathroom can he use?"

Hermione and Harry hastened to look at the map, concluding that if Sirius was taken to a toilet, it would most certainly be the one on the left side of the corridor outside of Professor Flitwick's office – it was certainly the closest one.

"On the seventh floor, the boys' restroom on the left side of the corridor," Harry explained to the ghost. "Look out for a little snake engraved in one of the sinks."

Myrtle nodded importantly and turned around. With a splash of water, she then entered her toilet and was gone.

"What do we do now?" Hermione asked quietly and sneaked a peek at her wristwatch, murmuring _eleven twenty _to herself. Time was running out.

"We wait for Myrtle to come back," Harry said, keeping his eyes locked on the little dot labeled _Sirius Black_, as if it would pop out of existence would he turn his eyes from it. He watched as the dot traveled to one of the windows marked out on one of the walls, and then over to the door that separated the room he was locked into from the corridor outside.

The little dot labeled _Severus Snape_ moved closer to the door and stood still there for a while. _Trust Snape to muck things up_, Harry thought to himself furiously. Then, as if through a miracle, the two little dots moved out of the room and into the bathroom where Sirius had been told to escape.

Now, _where was Myrtle_? They needed to hurry!

They had to wait for two whole minutes before she finally turned up.

"Harry?" she called, and he immediately raised the map to wave her in.

"Right here!"

"There is a snake," she huffed once she'd come closer, "and a really large pipe. I couldn't enter trough the sink but one of the others has a connection to it. It's too small for a mortal, however..."

"That's no problem!" Harry said in relief. "Thank you! Look, Hermione and I will go down this pipe. Then I want you to enter the large pipe you saw in the other bathroom through the small one and come down as far as it gets. Only use the largest pipe when there is a cross. You'll eventually end up in the Chamber of Secrets. We'll wait for you there to see from which pipe you come out of. Alright?"

Myrtle nodded excitedly and, to Harry's great relief, did as she was told. Harry turned to the sink and hissed for it to open. Then he nodded to Hermione, handed her one of the broomsticks and jumped down the pipe.

He slid down for a long while. It was dark and wet just like he remembered it from last time he visited the chamber. There were little bones from dead animals on the ground when he arrived. Soon thereafter, Hermione was spat out as well, and hurriedly stood up to his right, a grimace of disgust on her face.

"_Lumos,_" Harry murmured and the room was instantly lit up as the tip of his wand was illuminated. Now, they could see the little mountain of stones where the ceiling almost broke down a year ago. It separated the tunnel, leading to the Chamber of Secrets, from the high-roofed hall filled with bones they were now standing in.

It seemed to be a giant meeting point for all the pipes. Harry saw dozens and dozens of openings in the ceiling where other larger pipes began. Myrtle would no doubt emerge from out of one of those any second now... Sure enough, as if summoned, he saw a pearly white shape emerge from out of one of them.

Harry promptly mounted his broomstick and looked back at Hermione, giving her a pointed look. She immediately caught on and straddled her broom as well, and they both flew upwards to where Myrtle was hoovering mid-air.

"Good job," Harry told her with a big smile. "You did brilliantly. Thank you!"

She giggled coyly at him and batted her eyelashes. "Well, of course, I am happy to help. And remember, Harry, you can always come and share my toilet if you ever die..."

"Er, sure... Thanks, Myrtle," Harry said and and watched as she turned around and left trough the pipe which lead to her home restroom. He signed for Hermione to follow him, and they made their way up through the pipe that the ghost had ever so kindly showed them. Sometimes along the way it felt like they passed though some sort of wards. Harry felt his skin tickle when it happened and he was sure that it was spells put in place to make sure no water or grime could reach the chamber.

Finally they reached the end of the pipe and it opened up at his command. Silently the sink moved and Harry and Hermione carefully sneaked into the bathroom. Sirius was still there, thankfully, standing in front of the urinals. Snape stood just outside the wide open door, glaring in at him with a sadistic gleam dancing in his eyes.

"Done washing up for the Dementors, Black? I hate to remind you, we're on a tight schedule... Can't miss the point when _justice_ finally reaches you, after all..." Snape drawled.

Furious at how Snape _dared_ speak to Sirius like that, as if he actually deserved to lose his soul though a Dementor's Kiss, Harry aimed his wand at his black-clad professor, and shot away a spell.

"_Stupefy!_"

Completely caught unaware, Snape had no chance to avoid the oncoming spell and dropped face-first to the dirty floor. Sirius immediately sprang forwards towards the fallen man, bent down to poke at him before he turned around, eyes wide.

"Harry?" he whispered, looking around but seeing nothing, because his two saviors were still hidden under the Disillusionment Charm.

Harry stepped forwards and came to stand right next to his godfather, laying his hand carefully on the other's shoulder. "I'm here," he whispered and then, a moment later, found himself in a bone-crushing hug.

"Sirius – can't breathe!" he panted, and his godfather let him go with a big grin on his face.

"What are you doing here, Harry? How did you get in?"

"I'm saving you, of course," Harry said, pushing his broomstick into Sirius hands. "Hermione and I came through the pipes..."

"Oh," Sirius said with a happy grin. "Hey there, Hermione! Wait, where's that other boy? What was his name – Ron?"

"Yes, yes, Ron is fine, he's in the hospital wing... but let's talk about that later," Harry whispered hurriedly. "We have to go before somebody catches on, and realizes you have escaped."

He led Sirius to the pipe opening and sat himself down behind Hermione on her broomstick. On Harry's command, Sirius swooped down the pipe, and Hermione soon followed suit, Harry turning around to hiss at the sink to _close_, so that no one would ever find out what had happened to Sirius Black.

When they reached the Hall of Bones Sirius made a disgusted sound.

"Where the hell are we?" he asked and looked around at the surroundings. "I mean – you're bloody brilliant, Harry, and Hermione of course. I can't thank you enough! It's just... Well, I thought I knew every secret passage and room there was at Hogwarts..."

"It's... Well, er..." Harry began, not sure how Sirius would react to the truth. "It's the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets," he said, very slowly.

"You found the _Chamber of Secrets_?" Sirius exclaimed in disbelief. "But you're only a third year! James and I searched for it for _ages_ and didn't even find out what kind of monster lived in it..."

"You searched for the chamber?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Yes, of course. Remus and Peter helped too, sometimes... We wanted our map to be complete, you know." He shrugged. "And of course we could have teased the slimy Slytherins with the fact that it were Gryffindors who found it first."

"Well, actually the first one to find it was Voldemort, fifty years ago when he went here to school himself. I only found it because of a cursed diary he'd created that set free the Basilisk inside the chamber. He kidnapped Ginny Weasley to lure me here so he could kill me."

"The – _what?_" Sirius exclaimed with a dumbstruck expression on his face.

"Harry, we haven't got the time," Hermione pointed out, the bones under her feet rattling as she moved around restlessly. "In ten minutes we have to be back in the hospital wing, as if nothing happened. We have to get a move on!"

"Right!" Harry said, turning back to Sirius. "Look, the point is, I killed the Basilisk so the chamber has to be safe as of now. I fear you'll have to stay here for a few days until the world has calmed down..."

"Wait a minute – you killed the monster? A _Basilisk?_"

"_Harry_!" Hermione prompted impatiently and Harry mentally thanked her for not letting him get carried away.

"Next time, Sirius, I'll tell you everything. I promise. Now, I'll just have to get you into the Chamber itself – you can't stay here after all. I'll hurry back, Hermione."

And with that, he grabbed hold of Sirius hand and led him through the hole in the pile of stones Ron had dug out while Harry was on the other side, rescuing his sister. They arrived at the entwined snakes on the stone wall, separating the tunnels from the chamber itself. "_Open"_, he hissed at them and the walls fell apart, creating an opening leading into the grand stone chamber.

Sirius coughed as the smell of rotten Basilisk flesh hit him. With a wink of his wand it was gone.

"Where did you get that wand?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Nicked it off from Snivellus when he was busy being stunned and all that. Nice shot, by the way."

"Thanks..." Harry said a bit hesitantly. "But... Don't you think he will need his wand?"

"He'll get it back," Sirius said with a mischievous grin. "Eventually..."

"Well, alright," Harry said, already hurrying back towards the exit to make his escape with Hermione. "See you soon," he called behind him and was almost out the doorway when Sirius called out from behind him.

"Harry! What kind of password was that? You know, if I accidentally lock myself out or something..."

"Er, it's kind of... Parseltongue..." Harry stuttered, ice cold fear filling him as he recalled the reactions he'd gotten from most people at Hogwarts last year when his 'dark gift'was out in the open.

"You're a _Parselmouth_?" Sirius questioned, and Harry held his breath. "Wicked!" he then exclaimed and smiled widely in his godson's direction.

"You don't have a problem with that?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"What, with you speaking another language?" Sirius laughed. "Come on, it's not like you can do anything about it... Trust me; I know better then anyone how it is to be labeled _dark_ just because of who you are or what you can do... Well, Remus knows a lot about it too. You won't get any hatred from us, Harry, if that was what you thought."

"Oh... Alright..." Harry didn't know what else to say. "Well, I'll bring you some food once it's safe. But now I really have to go..."

"No problem," Sirius said, waving his hand in a dismissing gesture. "Did you like my present?"

Harry once again halted in his tracks and shot the other a questioning look, but then remembered Sirius couldn't see him. "What present?"

"The broom." Sirius grinned. "Did you like it?"

Harry's eyes widened. "_You _sent it to me?"

"Sure did!" Sirius said happily. "Think about it as 12 Christmas presents combined together, for the ones I've missed..."

Harry's gaze softened. "I love it, Sirius. I love it."

Then he turned around and ran. He hurried to Hermione's side and together they flew up the pipes and into the girls' restroom on the second floor where they left the broomsticks inside of one of the closets. Realizing they only had two minutes left they ran out of the second floor corridor, flew down the staircases and into the first floor corridor, where they raced to the hospital wing as if they had a horde of Hippogriffs hot on their heels.

When they finally arrived at their destination, they had to face yet another problem before they were safely back into their beds – the crowd of people blocking the wide open door. The crowd consisted of Madam Pomfrey, a livid looking Professor Snape _and_ the Minister for Magic himself – Cornelius Fudge.

"You don't mean to tell me, Snape, that you had Black locked up safely, and then decided to just _let him out_..." the Minister spat out in a befuddled voice.

"I did not _let _Black out – he simply wanted to wash up and I took him to the restroom _just across the hall_. He clearly had an accomplice, who stunned me in the _back-_"

While everyone was busy watching Snape break down into hysterics, Harry and Hermione carefully sneaked closer and closer until they could finally slip through the door and into safety – arriving just in time to see their past selves disappear in a swirl of colors.

Hermione hurried to cast _finite_ on both Harry and herself, breaking the Disillusionment Charms, and they both sprang forwards towards their beds, crawling down into them as if nothing had happened. Through the door came Snape's outraged yells.

"This has _Potter_ written all over it! Black used the Confundus Charm on him earlier this evening – he must still be confunded and-"

"Harry Potter has been lying in his bed, all evening, recovering from an _awful_ Dementor attack," Madam Pomfrey interrupted in a scandalized voice, but Snape wouldn't be stopped.

"POTTER IS AN UNSUFFERABLE LITTLE BRAT WHO ALWAYS STICKS HIS NOSE INTO PLACES WHERE IT DOES NOT BELONG!"

"Now now, Severus," came the calm voice from Professor Dumbledore, having finally arrived at the scene. "I am sure there is a perfectly logical explanation for whatever it is that is upsetting you."

"Headmaster," Snape wheezed, his voice shaking in rage. "Black! He's gone – he _escaped_ – Potter helped him! I know he did!"

"There you are, Dumbledore," said Fudge in an angry voice, interrupting Snape's ranting. "How do you explain this, pray tell? A convicted murderer, locked into a top floor room by one of your entrusted men, managing to escape... And now, that same entrusted man tries to blame it all on an injured _child_?"

"I assure you, Cornelius," Dumbledore spoke in a tired voice, "that we will do everything in our power to ensure Sirius Black can harm no other student in this castle. Severus, please, will you gather the others and start a search party?"

"But, Headmaster, Potter – the Confundus Charm..." Snape began but then quieted. Soon thereafter, hasty footfalls could be heard, and Minister Fudge sighed loudly.

"Fellow seems quite unbalanced," he said in a regretful voice. "I'd watch out for him, if I were you, Dumbledore."

"Oh, he's not unbalanced," said Dumbledore cheerfully. "He just suffered a severe disappointment..."

The Minister and Dumbledore spoke quietly to one another for a little while longer, and Harry was slowly sinking down into a deep sleep, when the door suddenly fell closed with a silent bang, and the Headmaster slowly strode into the room.

"Awake, Harry?" Professor Dumbledore asked in a soft voice and Harry immediately snapped his eyes open and sat up a little more in his bed.

"How are you feeling?" Dumbledore asked and Harry swallowed nervously in reflex at the searching blue eyes that met his over the rim of half-moon shaped glasses.

"I'm alright," he responded a bit half-heartedly, but the other just smiled cheerfully at him.

"That is relieving to hear, my boy," he said and sat down at the end of his bed. "I am here to tell you that there are some bad news... Sirius Black has managed to successfully escape and is on the loose once again. I'm afraid this means you are still in immediate danger and should be very careful once you leave Hogwarts in a few weeks time."

Harry nodded slowly at the searching look Dumbledore was giving him and promised he'd be careful. He hadn't spoken to Sirius about whether he could tell the Headmaster about what he'd done or not, and felt it might be best to keep the secret. At least for a little while.

Professor Dumbledore looked at him in a very peculiar way, as if he secretly suspected Snape was actually right, and Harry had in truth helped with the escape. But he couldn't... right?

"Is there something you want to tell me, Harry?" Dumbledore asked slowly, waiting patiently for an answer with his hands in his lap.

"...No, Professor," Harry said a tad bit hesitantly, but it seemed to be enough for the other, who simply arose from the bed and began making his way out the door again.

"Very well," he said. "Now, I must let you rest. It has been a far too long day, for all of us. Do get better, Harry."

And then he was gone.

* * *

The following day the entire wizarding world was aflame with the news of Sirius Black's escape. Snape still pressed his argument that since he had been attacked from behind, someone had to had a hand in the criminal's escape. He wanted to blame Professor Lupin for it and had promptly let it slip that the man was a werewolf. Since it had been a full moon that night, and thanks to the fact that it was later confirmed he had failed to take his Wolfsbane Potion, Remus Lupin was freed of all accusations of being Black's accomplice.

However, he was not freed of the accusations of turning on a full moon night, putting all of Hogwarts students in immediate danger – and was therefore relieved of his duties as the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Harry was devastated it had turned out that way – not only was Remus Lupin the best Defense teacher he had ever had at Hogwarts, but also one of the last remaining links he had to his parents. Having known that Lupin had been close friends with his father had somehow made them seem a bit less distant to him. It was the same way with Sirius, of course, but he had known Lupin for a longer period of time, and he quite liked him.

So, as soon as he heard of his professor's unemployment he hurried to his office on the second floor and caught him just as he was closing the last of his trunks.

"Professor!" he exclaimed at once, making the other whip around in surprise. "I can't believe they sacked you, how could they? It wasn't your fault that-"

"Now, now, Harry," Lupin said, holding up his hands. His face was covered in shining scars that stretched as his mouth twisted into a sad smile. "It is quite alright, you do not have to get angry on my behalf. In fact, I quite agree with the decision."

"You... _What_?" Harry exclaimed in bewilderment. "Why?"

Tiredly sinking back against his now empty desk, Lupin sighed heavily and gazed at Harry with a look of pure affection. "Does the fact that I am a dangerous creature that could harm innocent students mean nothing to you, Harry?" he questioned in a bewildered tone.

"No," Harry answered immediately. "No, it's like Sirius said – it's something that you can't help and that you shouldn't be judged for as long as you don't hurt people because of it..."

"Sirius said that?" Lupin asked, frowning in confusion. "When did..." Raising his eyebrows in suspicion, Harry got pierced by a narrow-eyed look. "Harry, is there something you would like to tell me?"

"Err", Harry began, fiddling nervously with the hem of his sleeve. "We sort of went back in time and took him down to... to the Chamber of Secrets..."

Lupin just stared at him in utter befuddlement for what seemed like an eternity. Then, his lips twitched up into an odd grin and he was laughing quietly. "Oh, Harry," he breathed out after he was done snickering. "I should have known you had a hand in this. But, the Chamber of Secrets? How on _earth_ did think of that? I know of course, like the rest of the staff of the events last year. But, I could never have _dreamed_ of... Well, I suppose you have inherited your father's curious streak."

Lupin smiled at him in a warm kind of way that had Harry's stomach turn to mush. He smiled back at the grown man and got an approving nod in return before he arose from the desk and started to rummage through one of it's drawers. "I suppose you had a Time-Turner, then?" he asked.

"Yeah, Hermione's got one, for her classes. We used it to go back an hour so that we could fly through the pipes and get Sirius out through one of the toilets."

"And then you proceeded to stun Severus for the second time that evening," Lupin answered with a look that Harry didn't know whenever it meant he was disproving or mildly impressed. Then he grinned again and Harry relaxed. "Ah, poor Severus... He was so disappointed. And the loss of his wand seems to have left him a bit... My, and all this time, with the Aurors searching every cranny of the school grounds, Sirius has been down in the Chamber of Secrets, all safe and sound?" Lupin started sniggering again and finally found what he was looking for in the drawer. Pulling it out, Harry instantly recognized his father's invisibility cloak.

"I went back for this this morning," Lupin explained and handed the cloak over to its owner.

"Thank you, Professor," Harry said automatically, accepting the gift slowly.

"Please, call me Remus, Harry. I am not your professor any longer, after all."

"Alright," Harry said. "Ah, I should probably tell you that there are still two broomsticks in the toilet on the second floor. We didn't have the time to return them."

"It's okay, I'll make sure to return them to the Weasleys before I leave."

There was a long pause.

"I'm going to miss you, Remus."

Looking a bit surprised, Lupin raised his eyebrows and stepped forwards to lay a comforting hand onto Harry's shoulder. "And I you," he said, giving the shoulder in his hand a soft pat. "But I'm sure we'll meet again, Harry."

"When?" he immediately asked, looking up at the scarred face of the other, watching as the other's expression turned into that warm one again.

"Whenever you want to, Harry. I'm just an owl away, after all."

Unable to stop himself, Harry reached out and wrapped his arms around Remus' slim body, and held on tight as the other started patting his back softly. Then he let go and immediately made for the door, calling: "Goodbye, Remus," behind him as he went. Before he could walk out the door however, the other stopped him.

"Harry, just one more thing. You said Sirius is safe in the chamber, right?"

"Yes," Harry confirmed, a slight worry stirring in his gut. "You won't tell anyone, will you?"

"No, no your secret is safe with me," Remus hurried to say, holding his hands up. "I am just curious... How will you get Sirius _out_ of the chamber?"

"Oh," Harry said, relieved the other wouldn't tell on them. "We figured he could swim out one of the pipes leading out into the Black Lake and then transform back into a dog once he's out of the waters. You know, no one managed to catch him last time, did they?"

"No, you're absolutely right," Remus confirmed with a crocked smile.

Harry smiled back at him and turned to walk out of his office with confusing feelings of regret, wondering when he would get to see the other again.

The next couple of days flew by way too fast in Harry's opinion. Since Pettigrew was on the run, Sirius would have to continue his life as a fugitive until somebody caught the rat. Nobody but Harry, Ron and Hermione, as well as Professor Lupin, knew that he was in fact no murderer, but an innocent. Despite that it had seemed like Professor Dumbledore secretly knew they had something to do with Sirius' escape, they had decided against telling him. Without proof, chances were he would take matters into his own hands and send Sirius straight back to the Ministry of Magic and the Dementors.

Hermione had argued against the decision, believing that if only Dumbledore _knew_ what was going on he could help them, talk to the Minister and make sure Sirius became a free man again. Ron had been ready to agree with her, and Harry had almost caved in. But in the end, they all agreed that the decision was up to Sirius himself, and he said he didn't want to take the risk of the Ministry capturing him again. And that sealed the matter. Dumbledore and the other teachers at Hogwarts would be left out of the loop. Perhaps that was for the best, Harry reasoned, thinking with dread about what Snape might do if he found out exactly what had happened to the man who he hated so much...

So, Harry, Ron and Hermione kept their secrets to themselves and used all their free time to sneak down into the Chamber of Secrets to visit Sirius. He was glad for the company, a bit starved on that at this point, and happily joked around with them and wanted to know everything about what they had been up to. He particularly seemed to enjoy the story about how the three of them had sneaked into the forbidden corridor on the third floor and found themselves facing off Voldemort in a struggle for the Philosopher's Stone.

He payed them back by telling stories of his own time as a Hogwarts student, and about the struggle he and his closest friends had had to go through to finally become Animagi. He also told them of the mischief they'd let loose in the school and about how things had eventually led up to the point where they had created the Marauder's Map. While on the subject, he had also decided to adjust the map a bit, so that the Chamber of Secrets could be seen on it as well. Something that had Hermione positively squealing in excitement at seeing in action how it was done.

Despite being left alone at most times, Sirius seemed to like it down in the Chamber of Secrets – mainly thanks to the nifty little room he had found when out and about exploring it. Right between the great legs of the Salazar Slytherin statue was a stone door that would open if you simply knocked on it. Inside was a complete set of living quarters: with a grand living room, a set of comfortable sofas in front of a crackling fireplace, the walls entirely covered with bookshelves stacked up with ancient looking books (which had Hermione climbing on the walls in excitement, although she ended up scoffing in annoyance that they were all written in some language she neither recognized nor could understand). It also held a small spiral staircase that Sirius proclaimed led to the Basilisk's lair – a place he hadn't felt all that interested in exploring.

Through one of the doors leading out of the living room, there was a cozy little bedroom furnished with wardrobes and end-tables in an elegant oak material. Sirius particularly liked the bed, even though it was in a deep green color, and spent a great deal of time jumping up and down in it in his dog form.

Through the other door, you ended up in a grand study which seemed to have served as some sort of research station with a lot of potions supplies: crystallised bottles filled with liquid in varying colors, lots and lots of scrolls filled out with script in dark black ink, loads of cauldrons and brass scales. It seemed like somebody had been down here doing some sort of experiments... but of what kind was hard to tell. All the writing was done in Latin, so none of them could read it.

Through the potions laboratory, there was another door which led into a small, windowless room filled up with piles of gold. Again it looked like somebody had already been there, looting the bigger part of it, but quite a hefty sum remained.

Sirius had decided to take what he could from off the Basilisk carcass to sell it on the black market, earning some easy cash that way. And since he had already gathered what he could get from off the big serpent at the point when he found the stacks of gold, he decided to leave it be since he'd earn a fortune on the rare Basilisk parts either way. Definitely enough for him to survive as he hid from the Ministry of Magic.

As soon as he had gathered all he needed, it was time for him to leave. Harry was alone with him in the chamber, as Ron and Hermione haven decided to leave them alone this time, after Harry pleaded for them to do so. He wanted some alone time with his godfather. He didn't know when they would next see each other, after all.

Sirius was busy shrinking all the packages of Basilisk skin, fangs and vials of venom, so that they would easily fit inside of his robe pocket. Harry was just sitting beside him, watching him longingly and wishing he could go with him.

"Now, don't give me that kicked puppy look," Sirius said jokingly. "You know I'd love to take you with me. But I just can't."

Harry sighed. "I know. It's just, the Dursleys…"

Sirius turned around abruptly. "The what?!"

"The Dursleys. You know, my aunt and uncle; the Muggles I live with. They hate everything magic related and I'm no exception. They treat me like dirt, and I _really_ don't like them either."

"You live with _them?_" Sirius exclaimed in disbelieving outrage."_That's _where Hagrid was taking you that night, when I lent him my motorcycle? That's preposterous! How could you have possibly ended up with _those people_? Lily wasn't even on good terms with her sister; everybody knew that – what, you said they treat you like _dirt_?"

Harry watched with a rapidly beating heart how his godfather started pacing back and forwards, scratching the back of his neck frustratedly.

"Sure, your parents named me your godfather," he continued in a furious mumble, "but it was a time of war and they weren't stupid. That wasn't all they did to secure your future in case of their passing. I was there, I saw with my own eyes how they wrote a testament. They even included a whole list of people for you to stay with in case the worst happened. If they both died and if I wouldn't be able to take care of you – although I did _try _to take you in, but that Hagrid practically ripped you out of my arms on Dumbledore's orders_... _That man was always suspicious of me ever since he found out there was a traitor, playing as double agent with Voldemort, and with me coming from a _Dark_ family and all that rot..."

He paced some more, mumbling to himself in a voice so quiet Harry couldn't make out a word. Then, he stopped in his tracks to state in a clear voice:

"There were loads of people who could have taken you in – they can't_all_ be dead! I know even _Snivellus_ made the list, and I've seen him alive and merry myself!"

"What, Mum and Dad wanted me to go live with _Snape_?" Harry gasped.

Sirius looked at him with a dull expression for a couple of heartbeats, before shrugging offhandedly. "Yeah, horrible, isn't it? Your mother was friends with him in school, you see, stood up for him a lot – although I never understood why. He never thanked her or anything! They eventually stopped hanging out, thankfully. But apparently, she still thought him good enough to care for you... Sometimes, I wonder if she might have been a bit _too_ nice, your mother... But how in the world she managed to convince James will always remain a mystery to me. They bloody hated each other; Snivellus and your dad..."

"Yeah," Harry said and looked away. "Snape keeps reminding me of how horrible he thought Dad was, and how much he thinks I resemble him..."

"Well," Sirius said, looking at him critically. "You _do _look a lot like him, you know... Except for the eyes, you have-"

"Mum's eyes, I know," Harry answered in a monotone, but smiling nonetheless. "I just wish I could come with you," he said as Sirius put the last little vial of blood into his pocked, all packed and ready to leave.

"One day, you will," Sirius assured him and wrapped his arms around him in a bone-crushing hug. "I'll come and get you, and the Dursleys will pay for the way they have treated you. But not today, I fear... The life of a fugitive is not something I want to put you through. No matter how tedious a time you have at the Dursleys – at least I know you're out of danger."

Giving each other one last great squeeze, they let go and together trekked back to the hall of bones, where the pipe that led into the Black Lake was located.

"Now, time to say goodbye," Sirius said, kneeling down before Harry to look into his eyes. "We'll see each other again soon, I promise, okay? Just remember, you are incredible. Absolutely brilliant! You are brave and strong, and you have already faced off some things not even grown up Hit Wizards would dare to face.

"I am so proud of you and so thankful for what you've done for me. But, from what you've told me about your life, there is no question about it – there's more danger out there, waiting for you. Therefore, you have to promise me you will be careful with who you trust. You're rich, you're famous, you're handsome," Sirius said and grinned widely at him. "Just like me – and you've done some great things. Jealously will be your worst enemy. It can corrupt even the best of friends, and combined with cowardly, it can easily lead to betrayal... You know what happened after Peter betrayed us...so please, Harry, promise me to be careful."

"I will," Harry answered, a thick lump in his throat. "I promise."

"That's my godson." Sirius slapped his shoulder once and stood up. "Now: Freedom, here I come!" he called enthusiastically and climbed into the proper pipe. Harry watched as he used Snape's wand to perform the Bubble Head Charm and a Heating Charm to keep him dry, before he waved once at him and disappeared deeper into the pipe.

Clutching the recently updated Marauder's Map tightly in his hands, Harry both watched and listened to his godfather, even after he was out of immediate view.

"Ugh, you should see that," Sirius suddenly exclaimed in a disgusted voice that sounded a bit muffled from inside the pipe.

"Everything alright?" Harry asked wearily.

"Yes, it's just that we're immediately under the lake, and there's a ward here, keeping the water away. It's like looking at the surface of the lake, just upside-down... Will be creepy once I get inside of it and gravity returns... Anyway, don't forget to write, Prongslet. I'm off!"

Harry only heard another splash of water and everything fell silent. Sighting, he checked his watch. It was around sunset, and all the students and teachers would be too be busy having diner in the Great Hall to notice a big black dog emerging from out of the Black Lake. And the Dementors had been called back ever since they had decided to attack Harry, so Sirius should have no problems in his escape from off the school grounds.

* * *

Harry decided that he'd rather not go back up to the official school grounds just yet, he wasn't hungry anyway. He might as well just spend some time in the cozier parts of the chamber, where his godfather had so recently been. Well inside of the living room, he decided to be a bit adventurous and sneak up the spiral staircase to the room where the Basilisk had had its nest.

The room was a round one, and very high. Harry could just barely see the ceiling far up. Intoning _Lumos_, his wand lit up and he could suddenly see in the dark spacy room. The nest was exactly that: a nest. Grass and hay covered the ground of the cave-like room. It was mostly clean, however he could also see some bones from dead animals as well as some left over scales that the Basilisk had shed at some point in time. The hay was arranged in a giant spiral. It was obviously the place were the Basilisk had rolled up and slept for hundreds of years.

Harry took his time looking around, not really knowing what he was searching for – until he found it. At first it looked like a patch of snake skin lying in the middle of the spiral of hay. However, there was a strange glint to the green, almost turquoise object that made him curious. So he walked closer and carefully crouched next to it to have a better look. The object was too big for a scale, to full in volume... It looked the size of a muggle football, but the shape was entirely different.

_Maybe it's a jewel_, Harry mused and stretched out a careful hand to touch it. Dragons were famous collectors of treasure after all, maybe Basilisks made a habit of it too?

But the thing didn't have any sharp edges...

And then it hit him – it wasn't a jewel, but an _egg_!

The realization made him freeze in shock, staring fearfully at the egg. Judging by its size, which was roughly like that of a dragon egg, if he compared it to the one Hagrid had hatched two and a half years ago, it could not be anything else than the spawn of a very large creature. And the setting left no doubts of its origins. Tiny freckles in dark blue and black were spread above the turquoise shell of the Basilisk egg. It seemed almost innocent. Well, if one didn't think about the deadly serpent that lay curled inside, that was...

Harry's thoughts ran at a furious pace in his mind. What the _hell_ should he do with an bloody _Basilisk egg_? He couldn't just leave it here – what if it hatched and found its way into the school? He couldn't take it to the teachers either because he would have to explain were he got it from and why he had been roaming about in the Chamber of Secrets in the first place. Snape would have a field day with that, for sure.

On the other hand, he was almost absolutely sure that there would be very few ways to destroy the egg, if the shell was only half as resistant as Basilisk scales.

Harry stroked the smooth surface of the egg with a single finger, wondering how such a dangerous thing could be so beautiful.

Suddenly, as if in response to his touch, there was a loud CRACK and a deep fracture appeared running around the surface of the egg.

_Oh shit_, Harry thought in panic. It was hatching!

Panicking, he hurried to his feet, dancing around the room looking for something that could help him. Seeing nothing of the sort, he started chanting in a desperate voice, pleading for the egg to halt its hatching process. "Oh please, oh please, no, don't hatch, don't hatch!" And to his great astonishment, it stopped, stilling completely as if it had never moved in the first place.

Terrified it would start to crack open again if he left it behind, Harry carefully picked it up and put it into his book bag, doing his best not to shake it too much as he descended the stairs and made his way out of the Chamber of Secrets and into the Hall of Bones. There, he mounted his Firebolt and swooshed up the pipe leading to the seventh floor boys' bathroom, doing his very best to walk calmly on his way through the corridor, until he reached the portrait of the Fat Lady that concealed the Gryffindor common room from other students.

"_Scurvy cur_," he intoned to the now vastly skittish woman inside the frames, having become awfully traumatized after her violent encounter with Sirius last Hallowe'en.

Scoffing pompously, she peered at him in suspicion and nodded once. "He was a scurvy one, indeed, that _dog_," she agreed and finally opened up for him. Doing his best not to look too suspicious, he hurried through the common room, head down, making his way towards the spiral staircase leading to the boys' dormitories. Midway through, though, he was halted as someone called out to him.

"Harry! Here we are!"

Letting out a shaky breath in relief, recognizing Ron's voice, he looked up at his friends and beckoned with his head they should follow him to the bedroom.

Once safely inside, he hurried to put away his broomstick before stripping himself of his bag and tossing it onto his bed in a way that suggested it was filled with hot potatoes.

"Sir- er..." Ron began, but hastened to reformulate himself as Hermione elbowed him in the stomach. "Er, I mean, _Snuffles _got out alright?"

"Yeah, he's fine," said Harry impatiently and stretched out his right arm to point shakily at the book bag lying innocently on top of his crimson bed covers. "There's a Basilisk egg in there."

"A _what_?" Ron exclaimed fearfully, and Hermione hurriedly turned around to slam the door firmly shut behind them as well as locking it, narrowing the risk of someone overhearing them.

"But that's impossible," she argued, hurrying forwards to rip the bag open so that she could look inside. "Basilisks don't lay eggs!" she stated in a lecturing voice, before starting to recite: "_The first recorded Basilisk was bred by Herpo the Foul, a Greek Dark wizard and a Parselmouth, who discovered after much experimentation that a chicken egg hatched beneath a toad would produce a gigantic serpent_- WHOA!"

Having finally caught sight of the impossible egg, she flung herself backwards and landed heavily on top of Ron's bed. Sitting up, her wild hair standing on end, she pointed shakily at the turquoise egg that had now fallen out of the bag and lay twitching on top of one of Harry's pillows, in clear view. "It's- it's cracking open!"

"Stop! Stop!" Harry chanted desperately, and to his utmost relief, once again it obeyed his command.

"You don't reckon it's gonna charge out at us and, you know..." Ron swallowed thickly and took a careful step backwards, "kill us?"

"What did you _think_ bringing it here, Harry?" Hermione hissed out in a crazed voice, backing up on Ron's bed so that she leaned against the head-board, hugging one of the pillows in front of her heaving chest.

"Wha- I don't know!" Harry gasped out, out of his mind in fear of what would happen next. Would the baby Basilisk keep obeying him, or would it eventually have enough and come out despite his orders? Would the egg itself cave in under the pressure and crack open? "I panicked and... I know, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have, but I didn't know what to do with it. I couldn't bloody well leave it down there, right? What if it hatched and started attacking the school?"

"I think that might be a problem whichever way you look at it," Ron whined pitifully and picked up his own book bag to shield himself with, when the egg started shifting again and another long crack appeared on its surface. "Maybe we could kill it?" More and more fractures could be seen on the smooth shell and it rustled slightly as if something was moving inside.

"Yes, but _how_?" Hermione whined, covering her face with the pillow in her arms. "A Basilisk's scales repel magic, just like dragons' do. And _cover your eyes_, you idiots!" she hissed furiously as she sneaked a peak at them from behind her fluff filled shield. "The Basilisk's yellow gaze is _deadly_, if you remember?"

"Right!" said Harry and closed his eyes hurriedly, trying to sort through his panicking mind to find a solution before it was too late. "Er, well, last time I killed the Basilisk with a sword... But Dumbledore has it now and... Well, I had to get it in the mouth where it didn't have any scales... But this is much smaller, right, so perhaps if we could transfigure something into a knife, or..."

In the middle of his tirade, Hermione had scrambled to the floor, searching wildly for something to use from under Ron's bed. Suddenly, she found a ruined quill and put it on top of the bed before pointing her wand at it. "_Scalprufors_," she cried and the feathery object turned to a steeled blade with a wooden handle.

Harry hurried to pick it up, but paused as he took a closer look at the instrument in his hand. It looked more like a cutlery than a blunt weapon. Would it really be strong enough to pierce the snake's thick skin?

Before he had any more time to think on it, there was a loud cracking sound behind him and Ron and Hermione squealed in unison as the sound of a long body stretching across hard eggshells and soft bed covers could be heard. Bracing himself, Harry took a deep breath, adjusted the grip he had on the knife, and prepared himself for making a wild lunge at the deadly creature. This was a case of kill or be killed, and he had to at least _try_...

"_Massster?" _

Harry froze in the middle of his lunge and felt how his heart made a violent jolt inside his chest. On the other side of Ron's bed he saw his two friends huddle together, hiding behind their respective shielding objects. They didn't seem to have heard anything, which meant...

"_Massster?"_ came the voice again, and Harry felt dread as he heard the snake behind him shift around again, drawing closer to his exposed and defenseless back. If he couldn't see it, he couldn't defend himself if it decided to attack him with its deadly fangs. If he _could _see it, it would kill him with its eyes. Perhaps, if he turned around and didn't look upon it?

Violently, he whipped around, the transfigured knife held high in his hand as he held his breath and carefully cracked his eyes open an inch. Immediately, his eyes zoomed in on the very things they should not look at and Harry felt his heart drop. He was dead, he knew it.

But then, as nothing happened, he stupidly couldn't help but open up his eyes further so that he could see properly through his wire-rimmed glasses. What he saw made his lungs fill with air again, pure relief making his legs give in as he fell to his knees, the knife slipping out of his sweaty hand, clattering to the ground.

"HARRY!" Ron and Hermione yelled fearfully from behind their cover, both certain he had met his demise at the gaze of the serpent.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he reassured in a scratchy voice. "I don't think it's deadly after all, its eyes are blue... er, well _milky_, sort of. They're not yellow at least."

"_Massster!"_ the Basilisk hissed again, sounding impatient this time, and slithered across the covers to stick out its head over the edge of the bed, coming close enough to his face so that the tip of its forked tongue touched the edge of his nose as it smelled the air for him.

"_Y-yes?"_ Harry responded hesitantly, not sure if the snake meant _he_ was its supposed master, or if it was looking for Slytherin himself. He _had_ been the master of its mother after all...

He scrambled backwards, hitting his head painfully on the frame of Ron's bed as it halted his escape, terrified as the snake slid down from his own bed and onto the floor. Its sleek, scaly body was very thin and about three feet long; the head of it was flat and triangular in shape. It had thin nostrils and non-existent lips – its mouth tinted in a shade of yellow as the rest of its body was covered in dark green scales, except for parts of its belly which was covered in small specs of yellow as well. As it opened its mouth to hiss at him again Harry spotted tiny little fangs that sparkled white as they caught the light of the lantern hanging from the roof.

"_Warmth... Massster!"_ And without further ado, it slithered up into Harry's lap and slid its triangular snout under the edge of his shirt, slipping in to warm itself on his stomach.

Yelping in surprise, Harry grabbed it with both hands and held it up in height with his face, squirming uncomfortably as its tail end slipped under his shirt instead of the head.

"What's happening, Harry, are you killing it? It hasn't got you, has it?" Ron asked fearfully and arose slightly to get a better look at the goings on. "IT'S GOT HIM!" he roared as he saw the position the snake and his best friend was in, and flung himself over the bed and onto the floor where the knife lay. He grabbed it firmly by the handle and turned around to defend Harry at all cost.

"RON, NO!" yelled Harry, halting the other in his tracks right before he made to make a lunge for the snake. "It's not trying to kill me, it thinks I'm its master."

"It thinks _what_?" Hermione shrieked and Ron's eyes went round as saucers.

"That's bloody mental," he breathed out, paling to the point where his freckles stood out against his skin like furiously red dots, but he let the knife fall to the ground once more with an audible clatter.

The snake in Harry's grip had grown impatient and started to twist around for release, hissing furiously at him to _let go_. Frightened it would decide to bite him for it, Harry dropped it, and it immediately took its chance to slip under his shirt in search for both cover and warmth.

"WHAT'S IT DOING?" Ron exclaimed in a terrified voice that Harry had thought was reserved for encounters with spiders.

"Calm down, it's just resting," Harry assured, gaining himself a look of pure disbelief from his best friend.

"Just resting?" he repeated dully and backed up to sit down on the edge of Harry's bed, as far away as he could manage from the little pieces of turquoise eggshells covering the covers.

Sneaking out of cover, Hermione slowly came up next to Harry and carefully hunched down at his side, inspecting the bulge on his shirt with narrowed eyes. "Are we still killing it?" she asked in a hushed voice, piercing him with intent brown eyes.

"Of course we're killing it!" squeaked Ron from above them. "It's _lethal_! We can't leave it to roam around school, offing people."

"No!" Harry said at once, feeling his heart sting painfully at the prospect of killing _his snake_. When it had become so, he didn't know, but somehow it all just made sense to him as he felt the light weight of it pressing snugly against his stomach. He had to keep it safe. "I'll take care of it... We can't kill it. I'll keep it."

Ron and Hermione stared at him in disbelief, before Hermione decided to swat him over the head, almost knocking him over. "Harry, you_ idiot_!" she exclaimed, looking very worried. "What if the eyes suddenly turn deadly? What if it starts biting you? Besides – it's strictly _illegal_ to keep Basilisks. Ever since the Medieval times! Do you know what would happen to you if someone found out? They'd throw you into Azkaban!"

"Then they won't," stated Harry coldly, laying his hands carefully on top of the curled up body of his snake, protecting it from harm. "I'll find a way. And if there isn't one, I'll make one. The snake is mine..."


	2. The Serpent

Chapter Two - The Snake

"_You should show yourself from your best side. _

_Unfortunately you don't have one, _

_so we'll have to polish your bad one until it shines."_

_Daphne G. to Harry P._

* * *

The little, golden egg-shaped alarm clock standing on the bedside table started clicking and puffing at exactly half past six in the morning, annoying the girl sleeping in the bed next to it to the point she threw out one thin arm and squeezed it in her hand. It stopped.

Daphne Greengrass sighed deeply, enjoyed the softness and warmth of her snug covers for a bit and then put herself through the torture of putting her feet onto the chilly dungeon floor. From the bathroom the sound of rippling water and silent speech could be heard, and Daphne saw how two of the dormitory's fourposter beds were abandoned. But not all of them: In the one next to Daphne's – hidden beneath her thick green covers and her fat, tabby Siberian cat Azazel – lay one of her dorm mates, Millicent Bulstrode, still sound asleep. The thick set girl with wild, black hair was snoring softly, her big stomach heaving, making Azazel go up and down in a steady motion. His eyes were open, shining bright yellow with intent, staring Daphne down as if he suspected she would try to rouse him from his position on top of his human. He was right, of course, the routine for the mornings would hardly change over night just like that.

Having experience with Millicent's vicious cat, Daphne had learned not to battle him empty handed, and thus grabbed her weapon. "_Wingardium leviosa_," she murmured, and Azazel hoovered off of the bed and onto the floor, where he sat down on his bum in a sulky manner. Triumphant, Daphne closed in on the bed and shook Millicent awake with a grip on her shoulder.

"Watch it!" the other muttered sleepily and swatted out one of her thick, strong arms. Experience had taught Daphne to dodge, and thus she did so, and the arm missed her narrowly. "Go away! Tryin' to sleep..." came the tired voice from under the covers, and Daphne huffed indignantly, starting to shake her again.

"Wake up, you lazy _twat_!" she snapped, and finally Millicent's beady brown eyes creaked open. In a swirl of fur, Azazel leaped up onto his humans's bed again, having tired of the cold stone floor. He was greeted with happy cooing and affectionate petting that made the large monster of a cat purr in satisfaction.

Satisfied her work was done, Daphne sighed again and walked across the dark lit room and to the bathroom in connection to it. In the doorway, she met her second dorm mate, Tracey Davies, a very long and thin girl with hollow cheeks. She almost jumped out of her skin as she happened upon Daphne, seemingly too stressed about something to even notice she had been there.

"Sorry!" she apologized distracted while squeezing past her in the slim opening.

Daphne nodded dully and watched as the girl hastily scrambled over to her neatly made bed, where a half-finished scribbling on parchment lay upon the covers, a quill and an ink bottle lying by its side. Probably the Potions essay that was due to today.

Entering the bathroom – with one wall lined with shower cabinets, the opposite with toilet stalls, and the long wall in between with stone sinks – Daphne caught sight of the last of her three dorm mates: Pansy Parkinson. The short, pug faced girl was busy preening herself in front of one of the mirrors hanging over the line of sinks, flicking her flattened black hair back and forwards to land in that perfect position she was aiming for. The frown on her face suggested she was not happy with the result this morning.

"Daphne, do you think I should switch to a left side parting? This doesn't feel right, like it's too heavy on one side..."

"How about parting it in the middle?" Daphne suggested and Pansy looked surprised and raised her eyebrows at her. "You do have a rounded face shape, clean lines and hard edges fits well in your case."

"Draco said he liked my hair yesterday... Perhaps I should keep it as it is," said Pansy listlessly, picking up one of her short wisps of hair with the tips of her fingers to look at it challengingly.

"Yes, because all _dear Draco_ thinks about is your hair," Daphne muttered in annoyance. "If you want to change it, change it!"

While Pansy gave in and tried it out, consistently frowning her hesitation to the idea, Daphne pulled her thin, blonde hair into a neat fish braid – getting it out of the way while still keeping it classy – and got ready for the day.

When the two of them were almost ready to go, Pansy having finally decided she liked her new hairdo, Millicent stumbled inside the bathroom, opening up her heavy, jutting jaw into a huge yawn. Not as particular with her appearance as Daphne and Pansy were, Millicent simply pulled a rough brush through her wild hair to make it actually touch her body, and that was all the beauty care she felt she needed. _Ridiculous_, Daphne thought to herself and continued plucking her thin eyebrows with her small, golden tweezers.

If there was something her mother had taught her, it was that appearance was a powerful resource – with one glance at you, people around you would decide whether you were a person worth making contact with or not. Appearance played a great part in that game, and if you wanted to have the advantage you had to make sure you looked good.

Daphne didn't think her own appearance was good, her face was too square, too sharp for that. Like all the members of the Greengrass family, she had a long nose, high cheekbones and round, green eyes – but the features weren't as perfectly sculptured as Daphne would have liked them to be. Not like they were on her little sister, Astoria. Her face was handsome, not square, her body was slim and elegant, not all curvy and pear-shaped like Daphne's was. And worst of all – she had dark brown, glossy hair that hung around her face in cascades, something that made Daphne grit her teeth in jealousy whenever she thought about the weak wisps of thin hair she had ended up with. If one would ask her what she thought of her own appearance, however, she would never answer anything else than how beautiful she thought she was. Confidence was more important than sincerity after all, or so she had been taught anyway, ever since she was little.

The four Slytherins finally, after great length, made their way out of their dormitory and up in the castle to the Great Hall, where they would have breakfast before their first lesson started at eight o'clock. Tracey was still scribbling furiously on her scroll of parchment, continuously asking questions which they all answered in tired voices, all the while they were walking and kept doing it even as they sat themselves down at the Slytherin table next to Draco Malfoy and his chums, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle.

Tracey instantly noticed Vincent was also busy finishing his essay, and decided to bother him with all her questions instead, to Daphne and the others' great relief. Pansy squeezed in next to Draco, who smirked conspiracy to Gregory before softening his expression and greeting her good morning, praising her new hair. Gregory smirked knowingly at the two of them, before turning his attention to the people at his side, instantly pointing out _he_ was indeed already finished with his essay for Potions.

"You are?" Tracey questioned instantly, looking relieved. "What did you write about the choice of blood kind for Healing potions in the 17th century?"

Gregory frowned deeply, as if trying to recall the exact phrase he had used, grunting confusedly. "Er, I think I wrote they used... er, well, blood?"

"And?" Tracey prodded, looking at him.

"And... Er, what? They used blood because that's needed for Healing potions, isn't it?" Vincent grunted in laughter and Tracey shook her head in disbelief. Draco, on the other hand, curled his upper lip into a disgusted sneer.

"Your low grades in Potions certainly don't surprise me," he drawled and Pansy giggled as if it had been a well put joke while Gregory smiled apologetically, as if well aware of his own stupidity.

"Well, we can't all be as good as you, Draco. You're the best Potions student in our year," Pansy simpered and looked at the silver-blonde boy at her side with a dreamy expression.

Daphne sipped her morning tea slowly and pondered on whether drool would actually make its way out of Pansy's pouting mouth, or if it would simply create a small lake inside of it instead. She hoped for the latter. Watching Pansy actually drool over her love interest would be painfully embarrassing to watch.

"You know, I bet you'll be the only one to get an _Outstanding_ in Potions this year. Not even that _Mudblood_ Granger could match you in Professor Snape's eyes," Pansy said softly, "even though all the other teachers insists on fawning over her."

"Yes," drawled Draco lazily, the sneer back upon his face as his cold grey eyes scanned the other side of the Great Hall where the Gryffindors sat. "The lot of them can't see pure greatness even when it stares them in the face... I bet _next year_, they'll sing a different tune," he said, his face softening into a self-satisfied smirk as he paused a little to let the others become curious enough to wonder what he was speaking of. "Next year, I'll show them all who's the _proper_ champion around here – take down _Saint Potter_ a few notches, save his _big head_ from exploding. As if he could do it anyway, I tell you, he's too busy _fainting_ from Dementors to qualify."

All except Tracey and Daphne laughed loudly at Draco's, both lame and trite, Potter-trashing; Tracey because she was still too busy writing, Daphne because she understood what the other was in fact implying. Draco was saying he would sign up for the Triwizard Tournament that would be held at Hogwarts next year. From the looks of it, he didn't count on anyone else than himself knowing about it, since it was supposed to be a strict secret until the start of term. And none of the others did seem to know about it. But Daphne did.

Draco Malfoy wasn't the only one around who got information from his parents. Mr Greengrass was an corrector from the Daily Prophet. And that was where all the most exciting information traveled around.

That was why Daphne was one of the few at Hogwarts who already knew of what was in store for them next year, and apparently, Draco was too. Intrigued and a little bit worried, although she would deny it fiercely if questioned, Daphne pierced the other with an intent look.

"Are you saying that you'll _try out_?"

Draco looked as if someone had poured ice cold water down his back. His disappointment he wasn't the only one in on the secret so great he almost looked close to tears for half a second. Then, he straightened up with an indifferent expression plastered onto his pointy face.

"Try out?" Pansy shrieked, leveling a smoldering glare upon Daphne from her position at Draco's side. "When he says he'll show them all who's the champion, he _will_ show them all. He certainly won't need to _try_! There's no one like him in the _world_."

Draco actually puffed out his chest at that, looking at Pansy with an expression that spoke: "Y_ou're lucky even to be sitting so close to me"_. Daphne felt quite nauseated at the display, and thus decided to leave it at that in favor of having some satiating porridge, busying herself with other things.

Draco was probably just bragging as per usual anyway. The Triwizard Tournament was no joking matter, but a fierce and deadly competition for only the greatest of witches and wizards. Draco Malfoy wouldn't last one day in such a contest, and he most certainly knew so too, probably planning on finding some excuse next year as to why he wouldn't be able to try out after all.

Her thought process was interrupted as the last Slytherin third-years arrived at the breakfast table; Blaise Zabini sitting down next to Draco and Theodore opposite to Daphne. The tall, dark-skinned boy and his stringy, puny companion seemed to be arguing over some thing or another, seemingly unbothered by the early hour.

"No, I tell you it can't be much longer now – he's messed up too much already," Blaise insisted, pouring himself a cup of tea.

"You're deluded if you think they'd manage to kick him out of Hogwarts with all the power he has. They bloody _love him_, they do," Theodore snapped in a shrill tone, his voice breaking slightly because of his puberty voice change.

"That won't be enough," Blaise argued, sneaking a hasty peek towards the middle of the head table. "I'm telling you, he's messed up too much! What, first with his letting that oaf teach students, ending up with one of us injured for _three months_, and then with the Dementors almost getting Potter killed – twice! And after that, with Black's escape – and what of that Lupin, eh? Being a werewolf? No, I'm telling you, Dumbledore has it in for him big time. What do you think, Draco?"

All of them turned their eyes to the silver-blonde boy in their midst, who instantly soaked up the attention, sipping his cup of tea carefully to create a dramatic little pause. "Well," he drawled. "Father tells me not everyoneis that pleased with Dumbledore's work as of late. Says there might be some... opposition to his continuing as headmaster. And if you want to know what _I _think, I think he's not going to last very long... All it would take is one other mistake, and he could lose everything."

The others goggled admiringly at Draco, impressed by his insight. Daphne, on her end, simply rolled her eyes at the nonsense. She wasn't fooled: Draco had no better clue that they did of what was going on behind the locked doors of the castle, or in the higher parts of the political wizarding world. It was all guesswork; fancy talk meant to impress those who wanted someone to look up to. But Daphne wasn't one of them, she held no delusions of where the actual power lay – and it certainly wasn't anyway near Draco Malfoy. No, he was just small fish in the big picture. What he thought and what he heard his father say didn't really matter – it was the big fish that made the decisions, that set the rules. And only those were the kind that Daphne would ever even consider lowering herself enough to follow.

Right now, there seemed to be very few of those around to choose from: Dumbledore himself was, undoubtedly, one of them. Another one might be the followers of the late Dark Lord – or rather, his right-hand man, Sirius Black.

Someone clever enough to make a fool of the entire wizarding world, not once but twice, was indeed a force to be reckoned with. Daphne found it admirable how he'd managed to pull free from all conventions around him to make a path of his own. But, at the same time, she feared the great power he must possess. He was a cold-blooded murderer after all, a convicted criminal, and as unpredictable as one could get. He had not only managed to slip out of Azkaban, but also into Hogwarts – the safest place there was in the entire wizarding world. He was like a shadow, in a way, impossible to catch.

She remembered sitting at breakfast one week ago, watching everyone around her react to the news of Black's second escape. Most had reacted most predictably – with open fear. There had actually been a couple of boys and girls of varying age and house-affiliation that had _fainted_ from the news, and some had been so hysterical they'd been taken up to the hospital wing.

Her friends had acted upset as well, although not frightened for their lives – if it was true that Black was a servant of the Dark Lord, most of them had nothing to fear, after all...

Draco had seemed particularly relaxed at the news, almost ignoring it in favor of being at an all-time-high because his antics had finally succeeded in having the gamekeeper's Hippogriff executed the very same night. He had taken to strutting around the school – openly insulting how things were run, how bad a headmaster Dumbledore was and what a pity it was Black hadn't manage to off _Saint Potter_ before he departed – looking exactly like the great thing he thought he was. Daphne found it quite ridiculous, but secretly also endearing, how he soaked up all the attention like a dry sponge.

Then, there was Professor Snape. The day after Black's escape, and for five whole days after that, he had been absent from all of his classes and all of the meals in the Great Hall. Rumors were going around he'd been so angry at Black, because of some personal vendetta, he had fallen ill at the news of his escape. Others claimed Snape himself had been the one in charge of guarding Black at the time, that he was the one who had let him get away, and thus felt too embarrassed about it to emerge from his chambers or worse, was taken to questioning to the ministry.

One of the more wild rumors going around was that Snape had single-handedly caught Black and imprisoned him, when he was suddenly attacked by Black's mysterious Dark magic. Completely defeated, stripped of all his clothing and belongings, he had been left behind so that Black could dress up as him and that way escape the castle with the help of _Polyjuice Potion_ and one of Snape's black hairs. People of that belief claimed Snape had been left stunned cold, naked and without a wand until the next morning, and therefore hid in his chambers because he was afraid to emerge without the protection of his wand.

Yesterday, he had finally made a show, stunning the entire hall as he simply strode in at breakfast and sat down at his usual spot at the head table. Completely as sour and bitter as ever. Leaving no clue whatsoever if even one of the rumors had been the least bit true. Daphne thought he looked a tad bit paler and angrier than usual, though, so something must have happened. Question was what...

Might be that he found out one of his colleagues was a werewolf. Daphne had been stunned by the revelation. While she knew, theoretically, that there were means to control even a transformed werewolf she couldn't understand why nobody seemed to have thought about the public uproar something like that was sure to trigger. That someone as dangerous as that had been allowed to teach at all – they had all been in danger once a month as a real life werewolf had been sharing the castle with them. In Daphne's opinion, the only one sensible enough of the adults around them was Professor Snape, who had seen to it Remus Lupin was disposed of once and for all. It wasn't important if Lupin was a danger or not (and obviously he was if the rumors of him running through the forest at full moon were correct), just putting him on a teachers post was practically a politically suicide for Dumbledore. Or would have been, if he wasn't so popular.

Why the headmaster couldn't just give in and let her brilliant Head of House teach Defense Against the Dark Arts was beyond her. What stupidity kept him from it? Who better to qualify? The teachers they'd had in the subject so far had been sorely lacking – the first one only teaching theory, the second one... not teaching them anything useful, really. And the third one being a blood-thirsty beast. They needed someone brilliant.

Daphne looked up at her Head of House, watching as he slowly ate his breakfast, speaking sporadically to Professor McGonagall at his side.

That was when the Great Hall was attacked by owls of different kinds. The post of the day had arrived. Daphne spotted her own family owl, Hekate, coming closer with something in her talons – a scroll of parchment that was surely a letter from her parents. The grey, silky owl swooped down on her, dropped the letter in front of her porridge bowl, and then came back around to sit down gracefully on her shoulder.

Daphne petted her affectionately and fed her a piece of bacon, before raising her light green eyes to the head table again, just in time to see an anonymous Barn Owl drop off a small, thin package in front of Professor Snape's rigid figure. The entire hall fell silent as he unwrapped the packaging with deft fingers, taking his time before finally holding up what was inside with a look of disbelief slowly forming on his stony face.

It was a wand.

His expression turned to livid rage as Snape looked at a slip of parchment attached to the wand, his black eyes flicking over to the Gryffindor table, where he leveled a death glare on someone who could impossibly be anyone else than Harry Potter. Without a word, he stood up from the table and strode out the hall with his robes billowing dramatically behind him like two, great, black wings.

Only then, the silence broke and people started chatting like mad, voicing their great disbelief that the rumors seemed to have been true. If that was the case, Daphne found her admiration for her professor only grew tenfold, because she knew that if _she_ had been left without her wand, she would never had dared walk around completely unprotected like that. It must have taken great courage.

As she turned her attention back to the letter Hekate had delivered, her sister Astoria swooped down in the seat next to her, demanding to get to read the letter as well even though it hadn't been specifically delivered to her. It turned out to be exactly what Daphne had expected – the usual letter from their parents – and it was soon forgotten as it was time for the third-year Slytherins to leave for their first lesson of the day.

* * *

Tracey was still desperately trying to finish her essay, having the parchment pushed up against Gregory's broad back, writing as they went. Vincent seemed to have given up, however, just walking in his usually calm way, flexing his muscles at younger students for the fun of seeing them frightened of him.

Pansy and Draco were walking next to each other in the front of the group, seemingly still flirting coyly, something that made Daphne feel nauseated enough to pointedly look away from – which was why she took notice of the group of people walking in front of them through the dark dungeon corridor. Potter and his friends.

They looked like they were arguing about something. Potter certainly didn't look happy, and the other two were dancing around him nervously, flaying their arms around while they spoke. They didn't scream, though, so it was impossible for Daphne to hear what they were saying.

They were acting very suspiciously, though, and it made Daphne appropriately suspicious in return. The three Gryffindors had, for some unknown reason, been hospitalized on the night of Black's escape. Was it possible they had somehow been involved? Did they know something of value? Professor Snape _had_ stopped to glare at Potter this morning, after all, as if his loss of wand was in some way the boy's fault. Was is?

They all came to a halt in front of the Potions classroom, standing in line outside the door, waiting for their professor to show up and let them in. Potter and the others were still arguing in soft voices, and Daphne sneakily shifted a bit closer, wanting to know what they were arguing about. Before she could get close enough, however, Draco _the prat_ stepped passed her and swaggered over to stand immediately in front of Potter – leering at him in an evil way.

"Morning Scarhead," he drawled lazily. "You look positively distraught today. What's the matter? Have reality finally caught up with you? You're scared, aren't you?"

"Piss off, Malfoy!" Weasley snarled, but Draco only smiled wider, still piercing Potter with his eyes.

"Doesn't it frighten you, Potter, that the man that's after your blood is still out there? Summer's just around the corner... Who's going to protect _the poor little chosen one_ at those filthy Muggles you live with? How long will it take for Black to find you, out there... Oh, you're scared witless, aren't you, Potter?"

For some reason and to Draco's great astonishment, Potter suddenly burst out laughing. Actually _laughing_ Draco straight in the face at the prospect of being killed by Black in the summer. "Yeah, really scared," Potter said, and for some reason, Granger and Weasley grinned widely at this as well.

Daphne didn't get it. What was funny? What was she missing? Was this some Muggle thing she didn't know of?

Draco didn't seem to get it either, but was slowly paling with anger at being laughed at. Without warning, he whipped out his wand and pointed it right between Potter's eyes, finally managing to silence him. Before anything else could happen, however, Professor Snape opened up the classroom door for them, and strode out into the corridor, looking at them. He leveled a cold glare at Draco, which immediately made him pocket his wand and step away from the Gryffindors, being the first of them to enter the Potions classroom. Pansy hurried to follow him, and soon they all filled in through the door opening, Daphne made sure to snatch the table behind Potter so that she could overhear what he was whispering to Weasley about.

As the class was odd numbered, Daphne ended up sitting alone while Tracey and Millicent took the table to her left, an arrangement that suited her just fine. It was the perfect arrangement for eavesdropping while seeming completely innocent at the same time. Pansy took a seat with Draco at the front of the room, and the rest of the class filled in the rest of the empty seats – Granger sitting down next to Longbottom, her suspicious eyes safely away from Daphne, thankfully. That would make things much easier. The Mudblood was a bit _too _perceptive at times, in Daphne's opinion.

Acting as if bored, Daphne leaned her head in her hand, and listened carefully to what the boys at the table in front of here were saying. Weasley seemed to be trying to convince Potter he was keeping up with something dangerous, that he should stop and just tell Dumbledore about it – whatever it was. Potter seemed at the end of his tether, scowling at his friend and hissing in a bitter voice that he had things under control, thank-you-very-much, and that it was _his _decision what happened to _it –_ still, whatever it was.

Apparently, it was something _bloody dangerous_ that Potter didn't know anything about, and that he couldn't keepfor obvious reasons. But Potter seemed to think he had it in the bag and that Weasley was mean and stupid for worrying about it.

From what Daphne could make of it, it seemed Potter had some sort of dangerous artifact in his possession that could be dangerous to him and others around him, that he liked too much to get rid of but that Weasley thought he'd better lose anyway.

Now, Daphne was _really_ interested. _What was it? _

But before she could hear anything more, Professor Snape decided to start the lesson, and the two boys shut up and payed him all their attention. Grudgingly, so did Daphne. Behind the professor, a chalk started writing something down onto the black-board, while the man himself stepped in front of the class to begin his speech.

"Do not think I am not aware my colleagues may think it more suitable for a class such as yours to enjoy your last week of studies outside, letting the fresh air sweep away every little inch of knowledge you might amazingly have managed to absorb this semester," the professor drawled acidly, looking Daphne's way with so much venom in his eyes that she feared she would die of poisoning just from his gaze. Then she realized the dark pools of black were directed an inch in front of her, at the rowdy haired teen she had so strategically placed herself behind. Daphne found herself relieved she was in fact _not_ at the end of that deadly look.

"However," Snape continued lazily, and Daphne straightened up further in attention, "as I am not of the same opinion ... I have arranged for this class to indulge you in a quiz, to make it apparent which ones have learned, and whom of you will start their summer vacation with a _T_ in Potions."

Professor Snape seemed to leer almost evilly at Potter as he said this, and Daphne noticed with great interest that the boy's hand clenched around his quill to the point when it broke in two with an audible _crack_. Interesting...

"Potter," Professor Snape barked out violently, his greasy black hair dancing around him almost merrily. "When brewing Herbicide, what tender ingredient needs to be added at the very end of the process?"

"Er," Potter muttered angrily, scratching the back of his head in an irritated gesture. At the table next to theirs, Granger was jumping up and down in her chair, waving her hand with an apparent itch to answer the question for her friend. _Disgusting Mudblood, _Daphne thought in dismay and sneered openly at the over excited girl. _Wasn't she supposed to be Potter's friend?_

"I don't know, Sir," Potter concluded in a stiff voice, and Snape seemed to glow with malice at the answer.

"Flobberworm Mucus, Mr Potter," he purred out, caressing his wand slowly, "let us try again: if injured, what must one do before ingesting the raw Dittany plant?"

"Freeze it," Potter said in a falsely pleasant tone. "Unless you want to have your stomach cooked by its red-hot fumes, that is."

If Potter thought he had outmaneuvered his teacher, he thought wrongly, because Snape's mouth had curled into a mocking smile that made him look purely sadistic. "Anything else?" he questioned in a sweet tone, making the boy in front of Daphne freeze up, squaring his shoulders.

_Really_, Daphne thought in wonder, _didn't the boy know the roots were mortally poisonous, and had to be removed before the plant could be ingested?_

Snape tutted reprimandingly, shaking his head slowly, making Daphne frown lightly. Potter hadn't been all wrong, after all, one _did_ have to freeze the plant as well.

"Third time lucky, perhaps?" Professor Snape said and crossed his arms over his slim chest. "Tell me, Potter, what is the most expensive ingredient to the Polyjuice Potion?"

Daphne's frown deepened at that. They hadn't even started on Polyjuice Potion yet, it was a very advanced potion. What was their professor playing at? Why show such open disgust to one of his students? He often treated the Gryffindors this way, and it was heard of that Longbottom was mercilessly bullied in class by the man, but Potter usually was one in the crowd when it came to Snape's trashing. It indicated something was going on between the two, Daphne mused, thinking back to what had happened at breakfast when Snape had received his wand by owl and had immediately turned his angry eyes onto Potter.

_Did Potter have something to do with the reason Professor Snape lost his wand, and in extension, the escape of Sirius Black? _

Before Daphne could muse more on the subject, Potter answered the question in a confident tone.

"That would be boomslang skin, professor."

_How did he know that_, Daphne thought with great surprise. The only ingredient she knew was needed in that particular potion was a hair of the person you wanted to turn into. The professor seemed surprised too, then his face twisted into a grimace so foul it looked like he had taken a bit out of a raw lemon.

"Five points from Gryffindor," he drawled acidly, making the red-clad students murmur disapprovingly amongst themselves at the unfairness, "for cheating. Your textbook should be stowed away when questioned, Potter."

Now, Daphne was completely certain Snape was taking out his revenge for something. Sure, Potter did have his book in front of him – but it was closed! There was no way he could have looked the fact up before answering. Besides, she didn't think that potion was even mentioned in there.

"Mr Malfoy," Snape continued in a silky tone, "what are the three ingredients used in a Swelling Solution?"

Positively sparkling with mirth at Potter's misery, and shining with pride at being asked a question he knew the answer to, Draco drawled his answer lazily.

"Puffer-fish eyes, dried nettle and bat spleens, Sir."

"Correct," Professor Snape praised, smirking down the tables at Potter. "How relieving not all of you have followed Potter's example and neglected to _learn_ anything at all this semester. Five points to Slytherin."

The professor whipped around, his black hair dancing around his shoulders as he did so, and walked up the the black-board, where the chalk had finally finished printing down the list of twenty questions that was currently imprinted on it.

In front of her, Potter was actually _shaking_ with rage, and Weasley was trying to calm him down in a quiet whisper, carefully avoiding someone overhearing. Too bad that was exactly what Daphne made sure to do...

"Snape's a bloody git! He's just sore Snuffles got his wand, is all. But you've sort of gotten your revenge, haven't you? You _did_ actually manage to knock him out _twice_ that night, right? Just think about that very happy memory, and you'll be fine."

How that would possibly manage to encourage Potter was beyond Daphne, but amazingly, it actually seemed to be working. Potter stopped shaking and actually sniggered quietly to himself. How odd a reaction... And what had Weasley meant with Potter _knocking out_ Professor Snape? And _twice_? She was missing something, but what? And who was this Snuffles person, that had so rudely stolen the wand of her Head of House? Was it possible this was all connected to Sirius Black, somehow?

She didn't get time to think much more on it as her Head of House declared they would spend the rest of the lesson answering the twenty questions on the black-board, without looking the facts up in their textbooks. Sighing lightly, Daphne did so without complaint, although she did find some of the questions very odd indeed. Such as the one that said _'How many drops of Baneberry Potion is needed to kill an ugly, rabid, black dog?'_. What kind of question was that, anyway?

Finally, the prolonged lesson came to an end. Professor Snape walked around in the classroom, collecting their essays, before dismissing them. Tracey looked like she would burst into tears as she finally let go of her very long, very messy, work, watching in distress as it was carried away and put into the neat pile the Potions master had stacked on top of his desk.

Millicent simply rolled her eyes at her, openly showing how ridiculous she found it all, but stayed by her side nonetheless when they went out of the classroom, into the dungeon corridor. Daphne followed close behind, still keeping her suspicious light green eyes locked on Potter's slowly disappearing form.

"How about some tea before our next class?" Pansy suggested in a happy voice, positively sparkling from having interacted with her beloved _Draco_ for so long, although her charming prince was currently walking away from her, surrounded by his two thug-like friends.

Their next class for the day was History of Magic, starting in one hour, and the other Slytherin girls seemed inclined to spend it in their common room sipping tea in merry laziness. Daphne felt far too excited with the prospect of stalking Potter, at the moment, to find such activities very fulfilling.

"Have fun with that," she simply stated before turning around to follow her prey at safe distance. She could hear Pansy call after her in annoyance as she left, but it only made it all so much more enjoyable – fooling around with her superiority complex was one of her favorite pastimes, after all.

* * *

Making sure to stay so far behind the Gryffindors would impossibly notice her, but still close enough not to lose track of them, Daphne followed the group of three into the grand school library. There, the trio had a quick look around, making Daphne hurry to walk over to one of the shelves as if she was looking for something, before slipping deeper into the rows of bookshelves to where the section for Care of Magical Creatures course books were located.

Intrigued, Daphne picked out a book on the goblin wars at random, and followed them closely. Potter and his friends had sat down at one of the wooden tables, standing between the rows of bookshelves marked: _CMC: A-M_, and on the opposite side: _CMC: M-Z_. Granger was in the process of selecting books for them to read, while Potter and Weasley sat down at the table – seemingly refusing to look at each other.

Carefully sitting down at the table safely behind one of the bookshelves, a spot where she could hear all what which they were saying while still staying completely invisible to them, Daphne lazily flipped her book open and looked down onto the pages as if busy reading. Then, she waited.

Soon, a loud _thump _was heard as Granger put down several heavy books onto the worktable, and then the scraping of a stool being pulled out as she sat down in front of them.

"If we are going to figure this out," she began in a hushed and tense voice, "we will have to read up on... _it_, anew. I found out several things about it last year, but I didn't have much time until I got petrified... So we'll pick up where I left off. As I was short on time, I only skimmed through _Fantastic Beast and Where to Find Them_, _Anthology of the Lethal Cold-blooded _and _Magical Monsters of Medieval Times_."

"Only?" Weasley asked in an obviously sarcastic voice, and Granger let out an annoyed huff while Potter seemed to find the jibe funny as he let out a breathless laughter, as if he was trying to hold it back.

"Well, as I said – I was short on time," Granger explained snappishly, dismissing Weasley's joke with ease. "So, since it was a while ago, and my memory is not perfect-"

"Bloody close though," Weasley muttered grudgingly, as if meaning for it to be an insult, while it sounded to Daphne like an unconscious compliment. Granger seemed to think so too, for she hesitated before finding her voice again, going for the approach of ignoring the other's comment.

"-we will have to go through these books again. Harry, could you begin with the _Anthology of the Lethal Cold-blooded_? And Ron-"

"Oh, what's the point, Hermione?" Weasley suddenly exclaimed in a far louder voice than the trio had kept before. He seemed to realize his mistake as he continued in a far softer tone: "It's just, isn't it bloody unlikely we'll find anything _useful_ in these books? I mean, sure, we might find some facts on how freaking _enormous _it will turn out. Or, what kind of innocent creatures it likes to eat... But, Harry, seriously! It's not like we're gonna find a step-to-step guide on how to raise a Ba-"

"Ron!" Granger hissed pointedly, and Weasley hurried to correct himself.

"-a _beast_ of that kind. Alright? I just don't see what the problem is – why can't we just kill it already, and be rid of it?"

"We will _not_ kill it, Ron!" Potter spoke in a voice so livid Daphne had problems even recognizing it. "I don't care what we find in the books and what we will have to learn from experience... But I'm keeping it, and there is nothing you can do about it, so buck up!"

Now, Daphne was almost jumping up and down in excitement and intrigue. She had successfully caught the Golden Trio red handed, trying to raise some sort of dangerous magical creature, possibly beginning with the letter B. This was beyond everything she had even imagined. She had thought they might have had something to do with Black's escape, but perhaps she had misjudged the signs? No, but _this_ was what the three of them had so desperately tried to hide from everyone, and now Daphne was in on their secret – a brilliant opportunity she would not throw away.

She quietly snapped her book shut, leaving it on the table as she sneaked closer to the Gryffindors, standing just by the end of the bookcase, readying herself for making an entrance.

"Harry, what's wrong with you?" Weasley hissed in a low voice. "You're acting bloody barmy, ever since it set its eyes on you. That plan is crazy!"

"You're right, it _is_ crazy," Daphne drawled lazily, swiftly stepping out of her hiding spot and crossing her arms over her chest in a superior gesture. _I've caught you red handed._

Hurriedly, the Mudblood snapped the book in front of her closed, looking up at Daphne with wide eyes.

"H-How much have you heard?" she stuttered fearfully.

"Enough," Daphne answered with a smirk. _I've heard it all. _"I must say, I am impressed: the lot of you are up to a very dangerous thing, if I may say so." _Now I have something to use against you._

"We were only talking about it hypothetically," Granger said quickly. "Right, boys?"

"Of course!" Weasley bit out, flushing crimson in anger. "And what's our business doesn't concern you anyway. So piss off!"

"Sure," Daphne said, shrugging offhandedly. "If you think Professor Snape thinks about the matter the same way, I suppose you have nothing to fear..." _Be polite to me. I could get you into a lot of trouble._

She turned to leave, smirking to herself as Granger immediately reacted just as she had predicted.

"Wait!" she cried out and grabbed the Slytherin girl by the sleeve of her robe. "I – Ron didn't mean to! Please, don't tell anybody!"

"Well, maybe if you tell me _exactly_ what is going on, I will think about it," she said, smirking superciliously. _I want all the details. _"Otherwise, I'd had to assume you three are going to be very careless, endangering the entire school – Ah-ah!" she exclaimed, holding up her hands warningly as Potter pointed his wand at her threateningly. "Be smart about it, Potter, you think you'd get away with it in the middle of the _library_?" _I'm safe here. You can't do anything to shut me up._

Her mocking tone of voice had the black haired boy scowl darkly at her, but he put away his wand nonetheless, settling with glaring furiously at her through his ugly Muggle glasses.

"Fine, we'll explain," Granger hurriedly concluded, looking sharply at the other two. Weasley was looking at Daphne with a befuddled expression.

"Who is she, anyway?" he asked Potter in a curious whisper, and the other simply shrugged helplessly, sneering deeply with his arms crossed over his chest in a defensive position.

Daphne smirked mockingly at them, enjoying the feeling of having the upper hand – she knew almost _too _much about them, while they knew nothing about her. "Third year, and you still don't know the names of all your classmates?" she tutted. "I should probably be insulted."

"You're Daphne Greengrass," Granger stated coldly, turning to the boys. "She's a friend of that Pansy Parkinson... But I've never seen her do anything that bad. She doesn't openly bully people like _she_, or Malfoy, does..."

"Does it matter?" Weasley scoffed, pointing accusingly at Daphne's standing form. "She's a _Slytherin_!"

"I'm sorry, was that supposed to be offensive?" Daphne asked, amused._ You'll have to do better than that, Weasley_. "Perchance, your wish to keep this a secret is strong enough to throw caution out the window and trust _a Slytherin_? I suggest you make up your minds quickly; others might not be as generous as I, were they to find out..."

"So, you won't tell them?" the Mudblood gasped out, her chocolate brown eyes looking desperately hopeful.

"Tell them _what_, Granger?" Daphne drawled sadistically, smirking widely at the discomfort she inflicted in her peers. _I want you to say it out loud._

"That..." The bushy haired girl licked her dry lips fearfully, tapping the tips of her fingers restlessly against the cover of _Magical Monsters of Medieval Times_. "That we're trying to raise a Basilisk."

Daphne's mind blanched and she felt her own eyes widen impossibly. "You're trying _what!?_"

_Shit_, she thought furiously the next moment, scolding herself: She had accidentally let her surprise get the best of her. Not very elegant.

"What... You heard us, didn't you?"

"I – of course!" Daphne stated coldly, fighting wildly to regain her composure. "I just didn't expect you to shout it out for the whole library to overhear. If you don't want anybody else to know about it, you shouldn't call it by its name!" _I knew it was a Basilisk. Of course I knew! That wasn't why I stumbled._

"It's completely harmless," Potter tried to explain in an intent voice, Weasley directing an open glower at him as a response.

"Harmless," Daphne repeated dully. _The most deadly of all magical beast – harmless? I think not!_

"Well, it listens to him. Harry's a Parselmouth, so he can speak to it..." the Mudblood hurriedly explained, but Daphne kept her eyes locked with the shock green ones of the boy in question.

"Yes, yes, I remember," she said impatiently. "But still! How can you even be sure..."

Daphne bit her bottom lip, thinking very fast. They raised a bloody _Basilisk_! Where the hell did they get an egg from? And how come they didn't tell anybody about it, but instead decided to keep it secret and actually going as far as to trying to _raise_ it?

"You... You can't tell, please!" Granger pleaded.

"Says the only Gryffindor to ever have the dignity to follow the rules, usually..." Daphne deadpanned, finally averting her eyes from Potter to look down at the girl in front of her. _Why didn't you tell someone?_

"Well, I – we would have... Would have told someone – but it was already too late. It was already hatching. And now..." Granger hesitated and directed a short glace at Potter, before clearing her throat and continuing. "They would kill it if somebody found out."

"It's not like that would be a bloody tragedy," Weasley concluded bitterly, making Potter hissed angrily through his teeth. "Look, it's already over, right? We blew it! She'll tell on us no matter what we say. It's done!"

Granger and Potter looked up at Daphne with wild looks of desperation, their fear of her so brilliantly obvious she all but purred from the pleasant feeling she got from the mere _power_ she had over them. Paining them under silence for a few seconds, she finally decided to have some mercy, and wiped the smirk off her face.

"I will not," she concluded honestly, watching as Granger all but fainted from relief while Potter suspiciously narrowed his eyes at her, clearly not trusting her for even one second. And rightfully so! With this information, Daphne had Potter and his friends in her pocket, completely dependent on her good-will. And, also, she had successfully made an forced-to-be-ally out of a Parselmouth in control of the almighty Basilisk. It seemed to be her lucky day.

But that was only if the snake survived and didn't go on a killing spree. Daphne was sure her parents had access to books far more useful than those in the Hogwarts library on the subject of Basilisks, having an entire room filled with literature on all sorts of Dark Arts in their home. Daphne and Astoria were hardly ever allowed entrance in there – but those few times she _had_ been inside, she had gotten a good look around, and she was most certain she had seen more than one book on the subject of dark creatures – and in particular: snakes. Perhaps, if she got her hands on one of those books, she could use the information as blackmail for Potter to let her get closer both to him and his dangerous snake, and at the same time make sure her powerful ally stayed alive and well.

On the other hand, Gryffindors were as a rule quite hard to blackmail. You could never now when they suddenly though freeing themselves of the blackmail would be a brave thing. But if you gained their trust they were sure to do everything for you. Normally it was almost impossible for a Slytherin to get a Gryffindor's trust (and hardly worth it too), but they didn't have any choice in this matter. Refuse Daphne, and they'd get expelled and possibly sent to Azkaban for occupancy of a banned, magical creature.

Ignoring the disbelieving stares she got from her Gryffindor classmates, Daphne casually pulled out the fourth stool at the table and sat down, entwining her slim fingers slowly with her elbows resting in front of her on the table. "Whatever it is you are trying to find here, it is gravely unlikely you will succeed at it. And you're short on time too – there's only five days left before Saturday... Now, it is a pity the lot of you have to make do with _light_ lecture, such as this... Hardly useful in your case."

"What would you know about that?" Weasley growled out bitterly, throwing her a mistrusting glance.

Daphne smirked slowly. "I know for a fact we have much more useful literature at home, books that would no doubt prove to be _invaluable_ to you, if you want to keep _it_ alive..." _You need me._

The Gryffindors were mistrusting immediately, squaring their shoulders and looking at each other for support, in tense silence.

"Why would you help us?" Potter finally asked carefully.

"Out of the goodness of my heart," Daphne answered sweetly, chuckling lightly as Potter's face twisted into an expression of pure dislike. He knew that was far from true, and that the Slytherin girl had some sort of ace up her sleeve. But _what_ was motivating her he could not understand, and as long as Daphne held the upper hand, he didn't need to. She could bend him any way she liked.

"I will accompany you, visiting it, this evening, Potter. We will meet at eight o'clock, by the entrance to the first floor corridor. We can decide on the details for our little... _arrangement_ then. Agreed?"

With a sadistic smile playing on her light pink lips, she watched as Potter fought himself bloody finding a way out of accepting her proposal. Then her smile widened even further as he found none and simply had no other choice but to bend to her will.

"Agreed."

* * *

_Auror Winter looked down at the bloody heap in front of his feet. He had believed the abandoned building to hold some sort of dark artifact – but as it turned out, it was empty except for the half-eaten carcass in the middle of the dusty, wooden floor. From the staircase above him, a loud thump was heard, and he immediately sneaked closer, listening carefully as he heard some voices._

"_Fair point, but still, the losses are too great on the enemy side to discard such an advantage. The mere destruction a Giant could do single-handedly is beyond what a group of at least twenty wizards could do." _

"_Hardly twenty! More like five, perhaps. But still, they are much too unpredictable. I tell you: north of Finland, 1658. They had allied Giants in that war – and the consequences were extreme at best. They were impossible to control, and they were so fickle with their loyalty they switched sides every other battle." _

Daphne scratched her head in annoyance at getting distracted from the exciting detective story in her lap. Auror Winter was just about to reach the climax of the 400 pages long _Of Respawning Boggarts_, and she found herself distracted by Theodore and Blaise's obnoxious bickering? What was with her today?

They were sitting in the common room, in front of one of the warming fireplaces, omitting a soft golden glow over their bodies where they were seated in low-backed leather sofas, contrasting strikingly against the soft green light the lamps around them omitted. On top of the mantlepiece, a golden pendulum clock ticked quietly, drawing Daphne's attention every so often.

Ten minutes to eight.

What was this nervous stirring in her stomach, that had her feeling so distracted?

"That's hardly a fair example," Theodore argued against his friend, his rabbity face sparkling in excitement.

He was one of those who would do about anything to win an argument. Blaise wasn't any better. The two of them could go on for hours, until one of them grudgingly gave in to the other. It was usually very entertaining to listen to, in Daphne's opinion, but today other things were occupying her mind.

"_The losses in those battles were enormous, on both sides! The wizards that was supposed to keep track on the Giants were constantly killed off. There was no way true loyalty could have lasted that way." _

Sighing deeply, deciding to finish the novel another night, Daphne waved her wand at it so that it floated through the air and upstairs to her dormitory, placing itself on its proper place on her bedside table. Then, without a word to the other two, she walked out of the common room in a lazy saunter. She only had ten minutes to make it to the first floor – but why hurry? It wasn't like Potter and his friends could do anything about her tardiness. They would wait for her, no matter how long, Daphne knew.

However, as she reached the decided spot for their meeting, she nearly lost her composure as she saw no one in her near proximity. _Have I misjudged them?_

Then, she let out a helpless little yelp as Potter suddenly materialized out of thin air, a smug smirk on his lips at having succeed in frightening her, possibly considering it revenge for the awkward position she had forced him into.

"Alone, Potter?" she asked wearily, wondering if the other two were lurking about, planning on suddenly attacking her as her back was turned.

Potter just shrugged helplessly and stowed a bloody _Invisibility Cloak_ into his robe pocket. Where the hell did he get one of those!?

Potter grabbed hold of a broom leaning casually against the corridor wall and motioning with his head towards the staircase leading to the second floor. "Come," he simply stated, and started climbing it.

Daphne was hot on his heels, feeling extremely jealous Potter actually had his very own _Invisibility Cloak_ at his disposal. Those things were invaluable. Very few could afford them. And the broom he carried was a Firebolt – also an extremely expensive object. What was Potter up to, spending his money on things like that? He wasn't rich by any means, was he? Didn't he live with average Muggles?

Her befuddlement only heightened as Potter led her into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom in the second floor corridor. What was going on here?

Refusing to let her nervousness show, Daphne simply watched in silence, an expressionless mask plastered onto her pale face, as Potter walked over to one of the sinks and _hissed _at it. When it started to rumble and sink down into the ground, leaving a dark opening in the wall in its wake, however, she could impossibly keep it up.

"By Morgana," she breathed out in disbelief. "What is that, Potter?"

"You'll see," he simply stated and mounted the broom in his hands, looking over his shoulder at her slightly trembling form. "Come on, then," he prompted impatiently, making Daphne immediately raise her defenses in defiance.

"Do you intend to take me down that dirty pipe?" she questioned in disgust, scrunching up her nose in distaste, trying to mask her fear.

"Either I fly you down, or you can just slide down it if you'd rather do that," Potter said with an evil, _evil!_, grin. Potter wasn't allowed to grin evilly, that bastard! Daphne was the one who held the power here, not him!

"I have a better idea," she stated. "You fly down and fetch the Basilisk, and then we can have our meeting here."

"Are you _kidding me_?" Potter exclaimed in unveiled fury, piercing her with glowing green eyes. "Anyone could walk in on us in here, heck, _Filch_ could find us here. What then?"

Furious he wasn't giving in to her, but at the same time curious beyond all limit to find out where the secret passage led to, Daphne let out a feral snarl and gave in. Quickly, so that she could not change her mind, she strode forwards and straddled the broomstick behind Potter, grabbing a stiff hold around his bony ribcage so as not to fall off when the broom started moving.

She immediately regretted her rash decision, of course, when Potter violently wrenched the broom downwards – taking them down the steep pipe at a furious speed. Daphne didn't think she'd been ever so frightened her entire life.

When they finally reached the end of the pipe, coming out in a dark chamber filled with _bones!_, Daphne promptly fell to her knees as her legs wouldn't carry her. Her throat hurt from all the screaming she had lowered herself to.

"You alright?" Potter asked in a mocking tone, reaching out a hand to help her up. Anger boiling up in her chest, Daphne slapped it away and arose on her own, clenching her jaw against the weakness in her limbs.

"What is this place?" she asked in a weak voice that made her twitch irritably. Where had her fierce determination gone?

"I call it the Hall of Bones," Potter answered in a cold voice, starting to walk into a dark tunnel leading to Merlin knows where.

_The Hall of Bones_, Daphne thought with abhorrence, looking around at the gloomy space. _Very fitting a name..._ She then followed Potter through the stone-filled path, coming to stand in front of a wall with entwined snakes engraved on it. The walls fell away as Potter hissed at it, and Daphne drew in a deep breath as it all fell into place for her when she caught sight of the enormous chamber hidden behind.

"The Chamber of Secrets!" she spat out in an accusing tone.

"No, actually, this is the Gryffindor common room," Potter answered sarcastically, and strode through the dark room, obviously counting on her to follow.

She did, although very slowly as she quickly pieced it all together in her mind. Potter was a Parselmouth, and somehow he had managed to find the Chamber of Secrets. Since he was now in possession of a real life Basilisk, that must have been the monster the chamber held. But Granger had said an egg had hatched, so this Basilisk couldn't be the original one. Did that mean another one was lurking about somewhere nearby? Could Potter control that one too?

Her mind came to a final stop as she suddenly caught sight of an enormous snake carcass – picked clean of all its valuable body parts. _Potter killed that huge snake?_ It seemed impossible. What had he done with the body parts? Had he sold them? Was that how he could afford a top racing broom and an Invisibility Cloak? It seemed probable. But why had he decided to kill it at all? Didn't he fight tooth and nail to keep the newly hatched Basilisk alive? It just didn't make sense...

Potter led her through a door, located between the legs of the huge Salazar Slytherin statue, and into a very comfortable room filled to the rim with books. _Why hadn't Potter tried to find his answers here?_ Although, after a quick look around, she concluded most of them were written in Latin – a language Potter no doubt had no knowledge in.

But she didn't have much time to look closer as Potter continued up a spiral staircase, and she followed him tiredly, wondering how long it would take until she could finally get a good look at the prized snake she was so interested in.

Not long at all, she realized, once upstairs. She was standing in a dark cave-like room, filled up with golden hay – a nest no doubt. In the middle of the soft, golden material, Potter had hunched down, hissing in a soft voice to a particularly puffy pile. Then, there sounded an answering hiss, and a beautiful green snake slithered out of the pile and into Potter's hands. Carefully, he placed the snake around his shoulders and walked over to Daphne with a guarded expression on his face.

She watched in awed fascination as the Basilisk hissed at her exasperatedly, while Potter answered with a soothing, slow hiss of his own. She desperately wanted to know what they were saying. They kept on speaking to one another, Potter looking quite amused for some reason, until his expression changed into that of pure panic all of a sudden.

He turned to look at Daphne with a desperate expression on his face. "We need to get some food," he gasped out, making Daphne smirk superciliously at him. _Oh, only that? _

"Wait here," she declared and descended the staircase, walking out into the Chamber of Secrets to where she suspected critter could be found. "_Accio mouse_," she intoned, and from out of one dark corner zoomed a small, brown animal, screeching fearfully as it flew through the air. Daphne caught it in her left hand and hissed in pain as it immediately started biting and scratching desperately at its restraints. With a grimace of disgust, Daphne coldly pointed her wand at it and stunned it with a well aimed _Stupefy_, its soft little body going limp in her abused hand.

Not wasting time, Daphne hurried back inside and up the staircase, dropping the unconscious mouse onto the cave floor motioning towards it with her right, uninjured hand. Wordlessly, Potter put the Basilisk down onto the ground, and they both watched in fascination as it sort of froze in front of it, craning its neck in a beautiful bow, before lunging at the mouse's head with its wide open mouth.

As the Basilisk started to choke down its prey, Potter and Daphne sat down in a fluffy pile of hay, watching it closely.

"What's her name?" Daphne decided to break the tense silence with, and Potter turned to look at her with a befuddled expression on his face.

"Her?"

Rolling her eyes at his obliviousness, _didn't he care about such things?_, she decided to have a little lesson on the proud animal of her House.

"It isn't easy to notice sex in a snake, but there are some subtle ways. One is to look at its tail. A female snake has a tail that is thick, and then only turns slimmer at the end. The tail of a male snake, however, is first quite slim, then it thickens to become slim again. Also, since it is a Basilisk, of course a male would also have the beginnings of a red plume around its head. But then again, you don't need to know these things as you can just simply ask her, isn't that right?"

"I didn't really think about it," Potter claimed and looked at the choking Basilisk with new interest. "I haven't really gotten to naming it yet... been a bit busy with trying to find out why its eyes aren't deadly, how fast it will grow and just... how to do all this, really. It's a bit overwhelming."

"I understand," Daphne replied coldly, not sympathetic in the least to his troubles. "Do you have any ideas?"

"For a name?" Potter questioned distractedly. "Er, no, not really... I'm not really that good with names. I named my owl after some random witch in _A History of Magic_. Lady Hedwig, er, something..."

"Lady Hedwig the Great?" asked Daphne in slight, unwilling amusement. "A powerful name for an owl..." But then again, she had named her owl after a Greek godness. "You better not choose a weaker one for the great Queen of Serpents. What do you think about _Saliha_, after Lady Saliha the Virtuous?"

Potter didn't answer, but kept his eyes on the snake as it choked town the mouse deep into its throat – only the tail sticking out by now. It hissed contently, and Potter smiled softly at it. Then, he hissed something, waiting patiently as the Basilisk obviously took its time answering. When it had finally done so, with great struggle with the critter down its throat, Potter turned to look at Daphne with a crocked smile on his lips.

"She likes it."

Daphne grinned victoriously at him, basking in the notion the mighty Basilisk had deemed her choice in name acceptable, but then frowned it confusion as Potter narrowed his eyes at her left hand and picked it up into his own.

"What happened?" he asked in a slight fearful tone, taking in the ugly scratch marks and bites with a grimace on his face.

"Mouse," she simply stated, and tried to twist her hand out of Potter's bigger ones.

"Wait," he muttered, digging deep into his robe pocket after his wand. "You can't just leave it like that, can you?"

Daphne watched in amusement as Potter frowned deeply, watching her hand with a contemplating expression marring his face. "I wasn't intending to," she stated offhandedly, smirking widely as Potter still didn't do anything with the hand in his possession. "You know, healing charms usually work better if you actually use your wand."

"I just realized I don't know any..." Potter muttered and sighed lightly.

_Why is he worrying about me? Doesn't he hate me?_ "You could use _Episkey_," Daphne stated. "Or, I could just do it myself."

"_Episkey_," Potter tried, and nothing happened. It took three tries, but finally the gashes on Daphne's thin, pale hand healed themselves, leaving little specs of blood in their wake. And to her disgusted horror, Potter decided to wipe it off with the cuff of his Gryffindor robes.

"What are you doing?" she exclaimed, snatching her hand away violently, sneering down at Potter's unnecessarily dirty sleeve. "There's a proper spell for that, you great prat!"

Potter had the decency to blush at the scolding, but didn't say anything as Daphne cast a quick Tergeo at his robes, vanishing the blood instantly. Really, those Muggles must have had more influence on him than Daphne had realized.

"I will come visit you once a week this summer," Daphne declared to a dumbstruck, and very pale, Potter. "Each time, I will bring one fact on Basilisks you will need to keep Saliha alive. What do you need me to find out first?"

"But you can't come visit!" Potter blurted out, looking almost frightened.

"If you hadn't noticed, Potter, _I_ am the one setting the rules for this arrangement. And I _will_ come visit – you can't stop me, after all, can you? Now, what is the most pressing issue?"

The Gryffindor boy at her side looked like he was about to protest again, but then seemed to think better of it, and drew in a deep, calming breath instead. "Her eyes," he stated. "I need to know if they'll change in color and become deadly, and if there is some way to prevent that. I also need to know how it is possible for Basilisks to lay eggs at all. Hermione says it should be impossible... but I don't know what to think. Oh, and her size as well, how big she'll be, and how fast she will grow. But her eyes are the most pressing issue, at the moment."

"Alright," Daphne agreed, nodding slowly, contemplating what kind of books she would have to sneak out of her parents' library to find such things out.

"Only ten minutes to curfew," Potter suddenly stated, looking at a tarnished wristwatch he carried on his left arm. "We should probably get back..."

Daphne nodded and send a last look at the beautiful Basilisk. Harry Potter could be a truly powerful ally with control over such a great snake. Of course she'd have to keep it secret, it wouldn't do for her housemates to find out about it. But she was a Slytherin – playing two games at the same time was practically child's play of her. A game that just rose to the next level.


	3. Darker then Black

Chapter Three – Darker then Black

_"You know, that sort of reminds me of Hagrid. _

_He also raised some dangerous beasts in secret. _

_I mean really dangerous beasts, but somehow there was never anyone hurt."_

_Harry thought about Ron being bitten by Norbert and Malfoy's little show with Buckbeak. _

_Not to mention the giant spiders that almost ate him and Ron during their second year. _

_But he didn't say anything._

_Sirius B. to Harry P._

* * *

"That stupid owl!" Ron shouted, still trying to catch the tiny bird that fluttered around the apartment excitedly.

Harry laughed silently. He could see the hidden glee in his best friend's eyes at the prospect of finally – _finally! -_ having his own owl. He hadn't forgotten how sad he was when he first thought Scabbers was dead.

With a warm smile, Harry brushed his fingers over Sirius' letter. It was signed with 'Snuffles' but he knew who it was from anyway.

"_Eh, what'sss the racket?"_ came the lazy voice of the young serpent from under Harry's seat. He stiffened immediately and glanced down at the small wooden basket. He looked over to the door of the compartment, just to make sure there wasn't some Slytherin walking by at just the wrong moment to hear him answer.

"_Just some owl post", _he whispered to Saliha. It was hard for him so speak Parseltongue without actually looking into her eyes but it was possible for him when he heard her voice. "_Don't worry about it. Just sleep some more, you've looked very tired the last few days."_

The Basilisk gave an indifferent hiss and went silent again. When Harry looked up again he saw Ron scowling at him, the tiny owl completely forgotten. Hermione didn't look at him, instead she had Crookshanks firmly clutched in her arms and cooed to him softly. Apparently, the cat that was hunting down the rat animagus only a week prior was now scared shitless of the reptile hidden under Harry's seat.

"Could you please not do that?" Ron asked irritated.

"What?" Harry answered scowling.

"Talking to that... that _thing!_ It's creepy."

"Heh? Why shouldn't I?" Harry asked, now a little angry. "Everyone talks to their pets. Hermione reassured Crookshanks, you're insulting that owl... Why shouldn't I talk to Saliha?"

"Oh, now it even got a name, yeah?"

"Sure it does! And it's a she, she doesn't have that... you know... red fluff thingy."

"Boys...", Hermione said tiredly, but nobody listened to her.

"Hermione, don't you think that's wrong too? He's treating it as if it's a toad or something! Giving it names, hiding it in a basket... It's a bloody killing machine, not a pet!"

"Sure, why aren't you screaming any louder? Some students down at the end of the train might not have heard you yet!" Harry hissed in a low voice. "Besides, you're waking her up. And you know she's grumpy if she doesn't get enough sleep." That shut Ron up and he sat down with his arms crossed, sometimes glancing at the basket with a mixture of caution and fear.

Harry sighed. He didn't want to use such words. It resembled a threat far too much for his liking, but what could he do? He wouldn't part with Saliha. Sure when he first saw her hatching he was scared beyond belief, but it was hard to hate or even to fear the snake when it blinked up at him with large, innocent eyes (as innocent as a snake can look for that matter), asking in a high voice where her mommy was. He hadn't told her yet. He even feared the moment he would have to. Not because he was afraid what she might do to him (honestly, it was nothing but a baby snake, not able to even hurt a fly without the deadly eyes and ridiculously tiny fangs) but that it might break her little cold-blooded heart. And yes, maybe he was behaving like an overprotective father, but really, she looked up to him like he was one.

The silence grew uncomfortable after some time. Harry tried to apologize to Ron, but even then, they didn't talk much for the rest of the drive. It wouldn't make it any better that Harry really saw no fault on his side and Hermione had picked up a book to read after some time. When the train finally arrived on Kings Cross Harry was almost glad, which was really scary, seeing as now he had to meet with his aunt and uncle again.

After getting the usual hug from Hermione and promising Ron that he would like nothing more than to celebrate his birthday at the Burrow, Harry searched the platform for his relatives. His gaze met that of the Slytherin girl, Daphne Greengrass, for a second but she looked away quickly as if she didn't know him. Harry scowled and watched her as a witch with thin blonde hair and blue robes, who was likely her mother, greeted her. Neither of them seemed to want to leave soon and for a moment, Harry wondered if Daphne had any siblings that they waited for. She didn't look over to him again. Harry shouldn't have been surprised but somehow he still felt a little disappointed. Not that he had really believed the girl had really wanted to visit him over the summer. She was a Slytherin after all and he lived with muggles. She was probably just mocking him anyway, which was why he hadn't really fought her decision in the first place. But still... with Ron being so grumpy, Hermione being, well, Hermione and Sirius being on the run there weren't any hopes of him getting any visits over the summer. It would be just as lonely as the last one. Well, with the exception that now he had a pet to talk to. Sigh. That wasn't really the same.

"Hey, freak! You come here this instant or you won't get any food this evening, do you hear me?"

Harry sighed again. He would have to prepare for another tough summer.

* * *

However, the summer turned out to be only half as bad as Harry had thought. He had told his uncle gleefully all about the mass murderer they knew from television to be his overprotective godfather on the run who had asked him to write him letters all the time in which he had to reassure him that he was treated well at the Dursleys. Adding to that the threat of being bitten by a poisonous snake that was commanded by Harry the muggles left him alone most of the time. He even got his wand, trunk and broom with him in his room, something they never allowed before. He could let Hedwig out frequently too (as long as it was at night) and write to his friends, although he was careful to never mention Saliha in his letters to Ron. In order to spend as less time as possible with his relatives he took long walks around the park or the nearby playground, talking to Saliha who curled around his arm under his long sleeved shirt when nobody watched.

And then, only one week after he had returned from Hogwarts, something unexpected happened.

It was Saturday and the morning started innocent enough. Harry had to wake up at eight o'clock during to his aunt's screaming who demanded breakfast. The Dursleys being afraid of Sirius made them give him enough food and let him keep his things, but he still had to do some chores and withstand their insults. Harry was just finished with washing the dishes when the doorbell rang.

Grumbling something about 'not going to buy anything', Vernon stood up, leaving Dudley to watch the TV and opened the door.

"A wonderful good morning, Mr. Dursley!" chirped a sickeningly sweet female voice Harry didn't recognize. "It is _such_ a pleasure to meet you! My name is Mary Green and this is my daughter Sarah."

"Ah, yes... What do you want?" Vernon asked a little bit dumbfounded. Harry crept around the corner curiously.

"Oh, it's the _strangest_ thing, really! I happen to own a little Café in the neighborhood, maybe you've seen it, it's called 'Café Deluxe' and just this summer we have so many guests with it being the ice cream season, you know, and so my daughter helps me out sometimes..."

Harry tried hard to get a look at the guest, which was difficult because Vernon was so large he blocked the view of most of the door, but finally he caught a glimpse of them and nearly toppled over in surprise. It was Daphne Greengrass and her mother!

They looked different, though. Daphne was wearing a light green dress with yellow flowers on it, white sandals and some yellow clasps in her hair. She was flashing Vernon a bright smile, showing perfectly white teeth. Her mother was dressed in a white blouse and a blue skirt, a silver shawl thrown around her neck. She was babbling in a high voice you couldn't listen very long to and didn't seem to know about the use of a point or even a comma.

It was entirely _wrong_, seeing them like that. Even in the short time Harry knew Daphne, he knew she couldn't be farther away from such a girly nightmare. Yet Vernon didn't seem suspicious and continued to pretend to listen while Mrs. Greengrass babbled about her Café without even taking a breath.

"... and my dear Sarah is working together with the catholic church, you know, and her group is cleaning up the park from all that rubbish sometimes left there…isn't she a sweet girl? So when your nephew what-was-his-name-again came along a few days ago she talked him into joining her group and I know it's likely to be trouble for you but I dearly believe in the good influence the church has, I mean with the youth nowadays and everything so I think he should keep his promise and come with her, don't you think so?"

"Eh, what?" Vernon said. Obviously, he had dazed out after the first few words of 'Mrs. Green'.

"Don't you think your nephew should keep his promise of helping my daughter and her church group clean up the local park?"

Vernon's face lit up and he turned around to grin in Harry's direction.

Harry, who caught the true meaning of this, quickly shook his head and mouthed a 'Please don't!' to his uncle.

Vernon immediately turned back to Mrs. Greengrass, his grin growing even larger.

"Of course, I entirely agree with you Mrs. Green! The youth should work harder and a promise has to be kept." It was obvious that Vernon enjoyed the thought of his nephew having to do even more dirty chores in addition to having to deal with the daughter of such an annoying woman.

"Boy, you go with them and I don't want to see you again until dinner, understand? And don't you dare to do any of your freakish stuff!"

Harry tried his best to look disappointed as he murmured a 'Yes, Sir'.

Luckily, Saliha was already wrapped around his arm under his oversized shirt and so he just walked outside after Vernon sidestepped before banging the door shut.

The Greengrasses continued to smile until they left the property. After that, there was a drastic change in their attitude.

The smile was washed away from Mrs. Greengrass face as if she had dropped a mask and she threw a disgusted glance back at the muggle house. She stopped and turned to her daughter, a strict scowl on her face, her hands positioned on her hips.

"I dearly hope this will be worth it", she snarled darkly before drawing her wand and transfiguring her clothes into some elegant dark green wizarding robes. "I don't think I have to tell you to never mention a word to your father about this."

"What do you take me for?", Daphne asked with an arrogant air around her, leaning her head to the side. It looked so _wrong _with her still wearing that dress. "It's not as if I want anybody to know I walked around in this horrid thing either."

"I had better not have to come here again", the thin woman demanded, "and if I do, next time your dress will be pink…with lots of ruffling and you'll have bows in your hair."

Daphne shuddered.

"And you!" Daphne's mum turned to Harry and he couldn't help but flinch. "If anything happens to Daphne from you or your snake, _anything at all_, Dark Lords being out for your blood will be the least of your problems."

"S-Sure, Mrs. Greengrass", he answered quickly.

He noticed Daphne looking rather smug, but that was until her mother shot her a warning glance.

"You got your portkey?"

Daphne tipped her finger at one of her clasps.

"Good, then I expect you back in the evening." With that she disapparated, leaving nothing but thin air behind.

Daphne's look darkened.

"She could've at least transfigured my clothes back too", she murmured, before grabbing Harry by his arm and dragging him off to who-knows-where.

"Your mother is... tough", Harry said as they reached the park. Due to the summer being so hot, the grass was brown and there was hardly anyone walking around.

"But your performance was really good."

"It wasn't that difficult", Daphne scoffed. "We just picked out the most common names, the brightest clothes, the most annoying smile and the most ridiculous story. In short, the exact opposite as we would have if we were dealing with normal people."

"I still can't believe you really came", Harry said in wonder. "I mean, I didn't even give you my address."

"Yes, about that", she answered offhandedly, "why the hell do you have mail wards on your house? The tracking charm I put on your owl dispersed as soon as you reached the town. I had to find a bloody muggle phone book."

Harry blinked. "I don't know anything about mail wards", he admitted, a little nervous that he hadn't noticed any tracking charms on Hedwig. "And how do you know so much about muggles?" He remembered Ron being completely obvious about such stuff.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "I'm a Slytherin, stupid. My whole family is. Slytherin prejudice against muggles nowadays is mainly born out of the knowledge about their superior weapons and technology, which could one day pose a serious threat to the magical world. Of course, we inform ourselves about them. Besides, it gives us great advantage over light pureblood families."

"How so?" he asked curiously.

"Well, there are lot of loopholes in the law that allow you to make money in the muggle world with wizarding means, for example", she said. "Such as melting galleons and selling the pure gold to muggle jewelers and trade the muggle money you get into galleons again. Depending on the market the gold a galleon is made of can be worth three times as much as the galleon itself."

Harry's eyes widened. "That's legal?"

Daphne shrugged. "There is no law against it, if that's what you mean, but of course you shouldn't let the goblins hear about it.

"But we're getting off track. You should get rid of this mail ward", Daphne demanded. "And before your birthday that is. What's the point in being famous if you can't receive any fan post? People are sure to send you lots of presents and even if most of them will be rubbish, you never know when you might find something useful in there. If you don't know how to put them off, get yourself a lawyer to look in the records." She huffed, pulling out a small item from a little pocket in her dress. As soon as she held it in her palm it enlarged automatically.

"Anyway", she continued, "I got the information you asked for." She showed him the thick book in her hand. It was leather bound with old, slightly yellow pages and read: '_From Egg to Elegant, the Most Deadly Beasts and How to Handle Them'._

"I scanned through a few chapters and found a whole three about Saliha and her relatives", she said. At the mention of her name, the only world the little Basilisk could understand in English, Saliha slithered up Harry's arm and popped through the opening of his shirt.

Daphne flashed her a smile that was far more friendlier than anything she gave Harry so far and continued.

"You'll see that Basilisks develop some of their deadly abilities later in life. Her poison is as deadly as that of an adult right from the beginning, but she's going to grow very slowly until she sheds her skin for the first time, which won't be in at least a year's time. After that, it will be difficult to conceal her because she'll be one to two meters long and in need of more food."

Harry nodded, thankful that he could keep her safely for at least another year. "What about her eyes?" he asked, because that was really the most important thing for him.

"That's where it becomes difficult", she admitted. "The gaze of a Basilisk is similar to the dead curse, Avada Kedavra, but it's not visible. The force originates from the iris. As you can see, it's more ochre then yellow right now, but as time continues, more poison will be produced from her body. It'll eventually lead to the magic in her head turning deadly, thus making her eyes yellow and highly dangerous. At first, you'll get headaches from looking into her eyes until the point where you faint. As she grows, her gaze will petrify, which is still reversible, but before half a year is over... her gaze will kill."

"Is there a way to prevent that?" he asked desperately.

"Well..." Daphne hesitated a moment. "Can you tell her to look directly into the sun for a moment?"

Harry was confused, but translated the command for Saliha. The small snake gave her equivalent of a scowl, but turned to the sun nonetheless, but only for a very short moment.

"Thought so", Daphne said, who didn't let her eyes off Saliha.

"Her pupils get smaller at the contact with bright light, just as human pupils does."

"That means?" Harry asked unsure.

"That means that her iris muscle works similar to that of a human, which means, in turn, there is a chance it can be manipulated in the same way." When Harry looked still confused, she explained patiently, "In the renaissance fashion, demanded of noble ladies magical and muggle alike to show large pupils. Ironically it was the muggles who came up with a potion first, based on deadly nightshade, or belladonna. When put into the eyes it made the pupils larger. Of course, it was poisonous too but deadly nightshade is also the basis of the magical equivalent potion that lasts much longer and doesn't have the same side effects. If put in large enough quantities, it can make the iris disappear completely from view. Of course, I would have to read more about it and ask a potions master how the potion reacts to animals and magical creatures, but it's a possibility. It would probably lessen her ability to see, especially during the day but since most snakes tend to rely on their ability to smell and sense vibrations and temperature differences anyway it shouldn't be too much of a problem."

"Well, that's a relief", Harry said and stroked Saliha absentmindedly. "She doesn't have to be dangerous after all!"

"I wouldn't say that", Daphne interrupted his happy thoughts. "She's still poisonous and if she really wants to I'm sure she could break the magic of the potion easily. When that happens she can't just close her eyes, she'll be deadly until you give her more potion, which is difficult without looking at her."

"Yeah, I noticed that she never closes her eyes", Harry agreed. "Not even when she sleeps."

"That's because she doesn't have eye lids, but that's not what I mean when I said she's still dangerous. After all, as long as you treat her well she'll listen to you. Hopefully. What I really meant was her breath."  
Harry scowled. "Her breath? What's wrong with it?"

"Oh, I don't know, but it could be that it causes, well, epidemic?"

Harry paled. "What?"

"Not yet, of course, but at the end of the summer her body will have produced so much poison that not only the magic will begin to turn her gaze deadly, it will also have to rid itself of it in order for her not to die. She'll begin to breathe poison. It will make people dizzy, later on sick and if she stays at the same place for a long time, it will poison the water in the earth and all the animals through the air. If you ever plan to bring her back to Hogwarts then the whole lot of Scotland will be befallen by the pestilence."

"But that's not possible!" Harry protested. "There was a Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets for a thousand years and nobody knew of any disease!"

"Well", the girl meant offhandedly, "there _is_ a way to seal her magic enough for her body to suppress the poisonous breath. It's a complicated spell, more like a ritual really. I wouldn't put it past the great Salazar Slytherin to have performed it. However the ingredients are rather difficult to get – and of course using them is highly illegal, like in, life-sentence-in-Azkaban illegal –"

"But you could get them", he interrupted her.

"Of course I could", she smirked.

"But if there's a ritual to conceal the breath, can't you do the same with the eyes?" he wanted to know.

"_Theoretically_, yes", Daphne answered. "But the ingredients necessary for _that_ are really dark stuff and I'm not sure if you're able to do what would be needed to get them. Not to mention that I would likely back out of the whole thing if you were."

Harry looked taken aback. "What ingredients could that be that even a Slytherin would back out?" he asked.

Daphne shifted uncomfortably. "Well, if I remember correctly it was 'the blood of a freshly murdered virgin'... or something like that."

Aw, Harry, let's change the subject! "How soon could you get these ingredients for the breath suppressing ritual?" he asked.

"Depends. I'm not doing it for free, that's for sure."

Oh, he should've _known_ it! He should've known that Slytherins never offer their help without there being a catch. Daphne had been far too friendly until now and of course knowing what he did now, Harry had no other choice than to give Daphne whatever she wanted if he didn't want Saliha to poison the entire countryside. Harry was sure that she wouldn't have given him the book if it said what ingredients were needed, except in case there was really no chance he could get them. Now he was dependent on her. There was no backing out if he didn't want to kill Saliha. And even if he had the intention to do so, he was not sure anymore if he would be able to. She was constantly curled around his neck after all, in the perfect position to squeeze his throat or bite his flesh. You could never tell when she slept or when she was watching you, and despite her scales being immune to all physical attacks and a lot of magic too, she was also damn fast and almost impossible to catch. If he would ever really try to kill her she would only leave him and wander the country alone, poisoning lots of people with her breath.

He couldn't let that happen, he knew. Apparently, Daphne knew too.

"What do you want?" he sighed, defeated.

The Slytherin looked smug. "Oh, nothing too bad", she asked innocently. "We'll start with small things. Since Saliha can't understand English, I'll read passages of the book and I want you to translate it. With some luck, she'll learn to understand our language, even if she can't speak it. Whenever she has a question, I want you to play the interpreter. Try to encourage her to a conversation. I want to get to know her."

Harry wasn't too pleased with this. Sure, her proposition seemed harmless, but the part of 'we'll start with small thing' got him thinking. Why did she want to get to know Saliha anyway? She was just a snake! A baby snake, she didn't have a lot of character yet ...oh. She probably wanted to form her character the 'Slytherin way'. Well, to hell with it. He wouldn't let Saliha be corrupted by her.

But as it was he couldn't refuse either. He'd just have to tread carefully then.

The two children found a lone bench in the park in the shadow of some trees where passersby were unlikely to see them. Daphne began reading from the book, which, surprisingly, was more of an encyclopedia of magical snakes and reptilian creatures. She read the chapter about basilisks first, which contained little more than what she had already told Harry. He learned, however, that Basilisks, why usually bred from a chicken egg, hatched by a toad, could lay eggs themselves. It was just so rare that two of these creatures came together. Harry shudders at the thought that there would have to have been another Basilisk somewhere along the timeline.

He did his best to translate it for Saliha who seemed to listen intently. When Harry told her she was to learn human language and also more about her species and her relatives, she was absolutely thrilled. She also seemed to like Daphne more and more, although Harry did his best to explain that they had to be careful around her, that she was a Slytherin and they always had superior motives. Saliha didn't care. The gruesome examples of history from famous beasts and the great wizards that defeated them sounded like tales of adventure to her, even if they were explained in a scientific way in the book. She always was a little depressed when the dragon was decapitated or the Chimera suffocated. Once she even asked if there were any knights left for her to take revenge on when she was big. Daphne had to laugh when he translated that. She explained how dragons were held nowadays and that most of the old Greek creatures like Chimeras and Hydras (along with Basilisks, at least that was what everyone had thought) had died out long ago. Suffice to say, knowing she was the last of her species made Saliha even more depressed, but Daphne reassured her that she was welcome to think of Harry and her as her new family.

Time flew by and before long, it was time for lunch. Harry led Daphne to a little diner where they got something to eat. The remainder of the day was spent with them explaining some basic grammar and vocabulary to Saliha. The snake learned surprisingly fast and when it was time for the witch to go she already answered to her good bye by herself without the need of Harry to translate it (although he still had to repeat Saliha's answer of course).

Although it was a Slytherin's idea, Harry _did_ see the benefit of having a pet that could understand human language. Saliha was at least as intelligent as Crookshanks and if the Golden Trio had been able to understand the half-kneazle last year, a lot of trouble could have been spared with catching Scabbers unaware. So Harry continued to teach Saliha even when Daphne left that day. It was strange for him to be able to look forward to something else than the end of holiday, but he found that he was indeed happy about meeting the Slytherin girl again.

* * *

Another development in his daily life was that he now had an actual adult to write to. Though Sirius was more like a best friend then a father figure or even an uncle, it was nice writing to someone with more life experience than a third year. He did, however, regret it terribly to have told him about Daphne:

_Dear Harry,_

_Heh, I knew you were just like your father! Already after the girls, aren't you? And she's visiting you over the summer? That was fast! James needed a full six years before your mother even considered dating him. Funny how she tricked the muggles too. I would've liked to see their faces. Although it was a disturbingly Slytherin maneuver... What exactly did you two do the entire day? She didn't drag you shopping, did she? If she did, I feel for you._

_To answer your question, yes I'm fine. I found a nice cave up here in Scotland. Apparently, there are some funny little creatures that live in the cave. The males somehow have naturally wizard-repelling wards while the females have muggle-repelling wards. I kind of stumbled upon them as Snuffles and it's the perfect hiding place. It's also not that far away, so should the muggles bother you, just call for me and I'm there!_

_The news about you having mail wards is alarming, though. I don't think it was necessary to send the letter from the park. The mail wards are probably just there to make sure nobody's tracking you down through an owl and so that you won't get any dangerous mail. Hedwig shouldn't be tracked when she comes to me. But just to be sure, you could rent a post box in Diagon and use official owls that are less likely to be recognized. You don't know who set the wards, although it was likely Dumbledore. Mail sent to an official post box is always checked for dangerous spells or howlers and set aside. They never open your mail and you could theoretically look after the one sorted out too, lest it's destroyed within the week. I used that method once when my parents forbid me to write to my friends. It might also be good to know who sends you hate mail without having to actually open it. You can make it so that Hedwig collects the mail weekly. That should solve the mail ward problem._

_Until then and good luck with your girl,_

_Snuffles_

Although Harry dearly wanted to answer right away to correct Sirius that Daphne was _not_ his girlfriend and would never be, he was still cautious. So, he waited until the next week to ask the Slytherin about post boxes. She admitted that it was a good idea until he got a lawyer. They went to Diagon Alley together using the terrible vehicle called the 'Knight Bus'. There she showed him the post office, made sure she got his address and because they were just there, they did their school shopping too. They might not have gotten their letters yet, but the books were the only thing they needed it for anyway and those could be owl ordered as well.

While going through the Alley with Daphne, Harry noticed that she was much more relaxed than usually. Maybe it was the lack of disdainful looks she shot the passersby or the silence where normally she would complain about things like streets being too tidy, but he got the feeling that she really felt uncomfortable in his muggle neighborhood. It wasn't just a facade or a prejudice. Again, he wondered why she was putting up with him. She even gave him lessons on wizarding culture that were actually interesting, although it all centered around magical people (and purebloods especially) being superior. Again Saliha was listening intently from under his clothes and Daphne dragged him to the apothecary and even down Knockturn Alley (after she removed his glasses and put a Glamour Charm over his face) to buy some ingredients for the upcoming ritual. Of course, she made him pay for all of it, but still refused to say what the main ingredient was, only saying that he shouldn't worry about it.

Once Harry had his post box, he felt free to write Sirius again. He told Hedwig to deliver the letter to the post office and put a little leather bag he had brought on her leg with some knuts in it. The letter would be given to a post owl once it got to the office and then would bring it to Sirius. Hopefully.

_Dear Snuffles,_

_First, Daphne is most certainly not my girlfriend. I'm not completely sure what she wants from me either. I think maybe she wants to get near me because all of this boy-who-lived-thingy? She is a Slytherin after all. And before you freak out: She's still nice enough. At least none of my other friends have actively tried to visit me. Sure, I was with the Weasleys once and Ron invited me this summer too for my birthday, but none of them think about visiting me here, much less frequently. Of course, I told them not to because of the muggles, but you know, it's nice that someone is trying anyway. And succeeding, no less. I think only a Slytherin could do that because with everyone else my uncle would know that I enjoy it and would forbid it._

_So she's not my girlfriend, but I guess you could call her a friend. She even took me shopping and it wasn't half bad._

_I'm glad you found a place for yourself. I also understand that you don't tell me the exact location; it's probably better that way. However, I have my own post box now (Daphne helped me setting it up). It's under the name 'Barnabas Smith'. Apparently, Smith is a common name in both wizarding and muggle circles and Barnabas sounds like an old man, so it would be more difficult to track it down to me. I set it up so that letters from Ron, Hermione and Hogwarts would still come directly to me, everything else addressed to me to the box. Daphne advised me to buy an enchantment too that makes the name on the letter appear to be this alias in case I really get a lot of fan-mail (someone could get curious and check up on it). Which I doubt, but she insisted._

_Harry_

_PS: The muggles are scared shitless you could storm in and save me. So they actually behave this time around, thanks to you._

Harry knew that his words wouldn't exactly reassure his godfather, but he hadn't told him about Saliha (and most certainly wouldn't in a letter, security measures or not) and so couldn't tell him about Daphne's primary reason for visiting him either.

* * *

At their third meeting, Daphne finally deemed that they were ready to perform the breath suppressing ritual. Harry was glad about it since he had found that he couldn't look into Saliha's eyes for long until his head hurt and that meant that the poison in her head was getting stronger. After the ritual, that effect would be rebuilt too, but it would only give him time until the beginning of the school year. Daphne meant that was enough since by then they could use the school laboratories to brew the potion for her eyes.

Apparently, Daphne's portkey was linked to an empty part of the local park. This time around, Harry didn't wait for her to collect him. Uncle Vernon had thrown him out of the house this morning so he could get 'garbage picking' and he was at their meeting place twenty minutes early. When the Slytherin girl appeared and told him about the plan, she showed him an abandoned warehouse. This time she had a backpack with her and as soon as they got there, she began pulling out everything she would need.

"Err, maybe that's a stupid question, but isn't it forbidden to cast magic outside school?" Harry asked nervously.

"Why, Harry, you're totally right! After this we'll have to start our life on the run together", Daphne replied with a light smile.

Harry huffed. "Alright, you don't have to be so mean about it."

"When people ask me stupid questions, it is my legal obligation to give a sarcastic remark", she said. When Harry looked still unconvinced, she sighed and stood again.

"Look, this isn't some kind of spell. It's a ritual. The ministry's trace lies on yourself and on your wand. We are not using our wands today and the magic that the ritual is fueled with doesn't come from us but from the sacrifice. Ergo, it can't be traced. Otherwise just using a portkey or the floo would trigger the trace."

Harry nodded his head, that all sounded very logical except-

"Wait, what sacrifice?"

Another death-glare.

"_This_ sacrifice, idiot." With that, she pulled a metal box out of the magically enlarged backpack. It was roughly the size of a small cold box and when the girl opened it, Harry gagged. The inside was filled with bloody pieces of flesh and something like slimy worms that resembled intestines far too much for Harry's liking.

"What the hell is _that_?!" he asked horrified. At the smell of blood, Saliha came out of his clothing and looked around curiously. A small forked tongue came into view for a split second, before the serpent looked at him again.

"_That sssmells good. What iss it?"_

He looked at her in horror.

"You don't want to know", Daphne meant with a raised eyebrow. She then proceeded to put some candles in a circle around the box after the instructions of a big, old-looking book on her lap.

"Of course I want to know! What do you mean with 'sacrifice'? Those – Those aren't human, are they?"

"What, would you back out if they were?" she snapped. "It's not as if anyone was murdered for it, so you either shut up and let me do my work or you find this famous Gryffindor bravery you're supposed to posses and lend me a hand!"

Saliha slithered down his arm and let herself fall on the ground. She then moved to the box and peaked inside, asking again what it was that smelled so delicious.

"Patience, Lady, patience", Daphne said. "You'll get what you want."

Great. This was it. This was the moment he had feared – the moment the two girls ganged up on him.

While Daphne was busy drawing a circle with blood from the box, Harry snatched away the old tome and began scanning the page that was open. He nearly dropped the book shortly after.

"The entrails of a newborn infant!?" he read out aloud and stared at the witch in a mix of panic and utter horror. "Seriously? That's – That's dark magic!"

"Of course it is dark magic, you moron!" she snapped. "We're trying to eliminate, or at least suppress, the poison of a Basilisk without killing it. You really think light wizards would bother inventing something to do that?"

Harry continued to stare at her. He knew what he said was stupid. And of course his problem wasn't that it was dark magic – he had thought it would be, really. His problem was that they were using... Gods, he couldn't do that. How could he do that?

"Look", Daphne said in a calm voice, when she noticed Harry was about to go into shock, "there's nothing to feel guilty about. Those children were already dead, okay? My mother is a healer at St. Mungos and is responsible for the cooperation with muggle hospitals – you know, in case some muggle stumbles over magical creatures or artifacts and get hurt. She has access to the birth station. There're lots of babies every day that are born dead. I just asked her to bring me some examples." She patted his shoulder awkwardly, but slowly Harry felt that he could breathe again.

"No... No kidnapping little children and brutally murdering them?" he asked weakly.

"What do you take me for? I'm fourteen, for Merlin's sake. And even more importantly, I'm a _girl_. Girls don't kill little babies. Well, at least if they aren't their own mistakes. Only men do that. Now, do the both of us a favor and move Saliha up into the box. I don't want to be caught in an abandoned warehouse chanting in a foreign language inside of a satanic circle written in baby blood by the muggle authorities."

"This is so wrong", Harry muttered, but he helped Saliha into the box anyway, careful to not touch any blood.

"She has to be completely covered by blood", Daphne called helpfully. "And she has to eat it. A huge part of it, actually."

Harry was miserable.

Saliha was overjoyed.

"We're doing dark magic", Harry whispered to himself. "I can't believe it. What am I doing here? I shouldn't be here. I should be... where should I be?"  
"With the fat muggles that respect you as much as they do a flobberworm?" Daphne asked rhetorically. "Get over it already. If you don't have the stomach for it, go and wait at the door. Make sure nobody comes in."

Harry was more than ready to oblige.

"We're both going straight to hell for this", he reminded her before he left. As an afterthought, he added, "And you're driving the bus."

She rolled her eyes, clearly disgusted with him. "Thanks, but I don't think I'd be welcomed there. They'd be afraid I'd take over."

Harry shuddered. "Please remind me of this day should I ever think you're anything but pure evil."

"Whatever works for you, sweetheart."

Half an hour later when Daphne left the warehouse with Saliha contently wrapped around her shoulders, Harry was more than relived. A glance behind showed that she had already cleaned up the mess.

"This is it for today", the Slytherin said. "The ritual was a success, I think. Now the only thing that's left is for Saliha to bite you."

"Eh, bite me?" Harry repeated. "She's poisonous, isn't she?"

"Yes, but the ritual kind of sucked all the poison out of her to seal it away. This ritual is also often used to bind a familiar to oneself. She has to drink your blood while still in this state. It's simply easiest if she bites you. It has the added effect that in the future you'll be immune to basilisk venom. Or any other venom, really. Binding her to you will ensure that she has an anchor that will help her magic develop while she grows and it will decrease the risk of her getting sick from the interference of the rituals magic."

"Oh. Okay", Harry said. "But I won't be bitten!"

"_It'ss okay", _Saliha hissed, _"my teeth feel really ssstrange, empty."_

Still, Daphne was a Slytherin and Harry wasn't about to trust her so easily. Instead, he bit his tongue hard and smeared some blood on his thumb. Saliha's tongue twitched and she licked some of it.

Daphne's eyebrow twitched angrily. Harry felt kind of smug for defying her, even if it was just about something so unimportant.

"Fine. Now that that's settled just one last thing. Since you weren't present during the ritual", she shot him a glare, "it's magic is still kind of connected to me. To ensure that Saliha's development won't suffer my presence will be further required for some time."  
"What do you mean by that?" Harry asked suspicious.

"I _mean_, that since the ritual was originally meant to be a pure bonding ritual but my magical signature was present for much longer than yours and because it was you giving the blood the magical connection is still unstable. If it breaks we have to do it all over again but it is possible to recharge the magic periodically."

"Okaaaay... And now again for Gryffindors?"

Another twitch. "It means the magic thinks I should be Saliha's bonded. It's confused you gave your blood and not me. Over time, that will settle but to stabilize the magic we have to 'remind' it that I'm still there. Therefore, I will have to visit you again. I think it should be enough if I come for three of ten days [C1] for the rest of the summer. So..." She pretended to think hard, "that means we'll see each other again on the 30th July."

Saliha had already slithered over to Harry and now Daphne laid a finger on her portkey.

"Wait!" Harry cried when she was almost gone. "I – I wanted to visit the Weasleys over my birthday!"

"Well, seems like you have to scratch that. No way I set a foot over the doorstep of those blood traitors. If the magic isn't stable, there's the risk that it will crumble and then we'd have to do the ritual again. And really, I'm not sure if I could get enough-"

"I – Okay, I, I get it! Just don't say the word!" Harry said desperately. "Just – why the hell didn't you tell me earlier?"

Daphne looked at him oddly, as if he should know the answer. When he didn't move however, she just shrugged. "It's a Slytherin-Thing, I suppose. You don't share information unless it's absolutely necessary".

He then sighed silently. Ron would be furious. Since there was really nothing else to talk about, Harry had mostly written about the coming party with his best friend. But there was no way he could bring Daphne, even if she wanted to. Just another birthday at the Dursleys then, he supposed.

Again, Daphne touched her portkey, and again Harry stopped her.

"What's it now?" she sighed irritated.

"Well, I just... I... wanted to thank you", he said a little bit lamely. "You know, for everything. I would've never been able to take care of Saliha without you. So, if there's anything I can do..." He gulped.

Daphne smirked. And that meant she smirked a truly evil Slytherin-smirk. "Oh, I'm sure you'll find something to repay me with", she purred. (The effect was lost partly thanks to her girly dress.)

Then she picked up her yellows clasp and with a muttered word, she was gone.

* * *

And so time passed. Ron _was _furious when Harry told him he wasn't allowed to leave Privet Drive for his birthday. It was easy to just drop it on the Dursleys, but more difficult to convince the ginger to not to come and 'save' him again. In the end he made something up of them being still angry with the incidents of second and third year (which was true) and thus if there was one other fishy thing this year, he'd probably not survive the next (which was also quite true if it weren't for the threat of Sirius hanging over their heads.) Plus, he said that Aunt Madge was here again and would stay two weeks so he wasn't even allowed to leave.

However, everything got a hell of a lot better on his birthday.

Harry got his usual presents: some books from Hermione, some sweets from Ron, some stone hard cookies from Hagrid – and a surprisingly nice gift from Daphne, a wand holster that summoned the wand back in on itself when the wielder lost it. (Apparently it was Slytherin standard equipment.) His friends wrote letters too:

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope the muggles are treating you fine and your little project is still under control. I know that you wrote you don't want anybody to know and that you already got some help, but I'm still worried. What you wrote about your post box sounds very interesting. I researched it a bit and I've found that most shops in Diagon have a catalog where you can owl order almost everything! I sent you one together with some reference books I found that helped me a lot with this years homework. Have you started yet?_

_I'm really disappointed that we couldn't meet at the Burrow, I was hoping to see you and Ron's house. It has to be very interesting, being magical and all. Of course I'm sorry for you, but I was hoping that maybe I could visit the Weasleys nonetheless. Well, scratch that, Ron didn't invite me over. I'm not even sure if he knows that he's being impolite._

_Well, don't tell him. My parents and I are going on a last minute vacation to France so it doesn't really matter anyway._

_Goodbye and Happy Birthday,_

_Hermione_

_Hey Harry,_

_Happy Birthday to you! Even if it won't be as good as it could've been if you'd have just let me get you. Well, but maybe that's better, your pet monster would've probably eaten Pig. That's what the owl is named now, by the way._

_Dad got some tickets for the Quidditch World Cup, Ireland against Bulgaria. At first it was planned as a surprise gift for you, but when he heard you couldn't come he didn't get you one. I was screaming at him for what felt like hours, that you were only grounded for two weeks and there was no way in hell you'd miss the World Cup even on the risk of your life – but I guess it's too late now. Don't be too disappointed though, we've standing places on the down side and won't see much anyway._

_Heads up,_

_Ron_

Well, if that wasn't constitutive, Harry supposed Ron was still angry with him and maybe took the chance to boost a bit. Sigh.

And then there was the _other mail_.

At first, Harry didn't realize what it was. It looked like some sort of flying monstrosity that invaded the night sky. Until it hit a lantern and was illuminated to be a pack of five owls carrying a giant package and a sixth one with a smaller one. The smaller one contained only letters, all addressed to 'Barnabas Smith', none of people he knew. Well, he recognized some of the names: Dedalus Diggle, for example, and Stun Shunpike. (What the hell?)

It was fan mail. Dozens and dozens of carts and letters with 'Happy Birthday's written on it.

Harry was so shocked he didn't even notice the owls who were tugging on his hair with their claws, wanting to be paid.

The second package seemed to be a collection of the gifts that were sent to him. Most were small things like sweets, some books or magical instruments he didn't know what to do with. But he got his own snitch, a fantastic crystal orb with a model of the solar system inside that would spare him lots of trouble in astronomy, some fireworks from Zonko's and another broom (a cheap Cleansweep 60, but still, a nice gesture).

But the best thing ever was Sirius' gift.

It was two tickets to the Quidditch World Cup.

_Dear Harry,_

_Happy Birthday to you!_

_You probably are pretty crowded now, but before you do anything else: If you got any sweets from newly arrived fan mail, make sure not to eat those that come from a female addresser you don't know! They could by spiced with love potion. Those aren't recognized as poisons in the post office._

_Trust me, I know what I'm talking about._

_Now, are you at Ron's, having a nice party? Please say you are, 'cause if you aren't that means your not-girlfriend already corrupted you. Slytherin, honestly, what were you thinking?_

_Anyway, I was thinking about how to top a damn Firebolt as a present and there wasn't much I could do – so there you have it. Like it? It was really hard to get them so I hope it's the most freaking awesome gift you ever got!_

_I only got two tickets through so you have to choose who you will take with you. I'm sure Ron would be delighted, but since his father works in the Ministry maybe he'll go anyway. I was planning to tag along as Snuffles and to give a broad hint, I'd like to get to know your not-girlfriend to make sure she won't stab you in the back. Cause if she's evil we'll have to dispose of the 'girlfriend' part and if she's sweet I'll help you drop the 'not'. But only if she's really, _really_ sweet. And loves dogs. She _is _a Slytherin after all._

_Have fun,_

_Snuffles_

Harry sorted through his new things and found places to store them before writing answers to his friends. He then continued to get a good night's sleep.

* * *

The next day he was supposed to meet with Daphne again and left the house under the usual excuse. He was quite giddy actually. Despite searching his head endlessly, he couldn't think of anybody to take to the Cup other than Daphne. Ron would want to sit with his family (not to mention he'd be jealous that Harry got top box while he got downside standing place so he was thinking about not telling him he went too at all), Hermione didn't like Quidditch (and she was in France) and he wasn't really close with his other dorm mates. Of course he wasn't close with Daphne either and he was terribly nervous she'd interpret it wrong. That it was meant in a, well, romantic way, which it _wasn't_, but he _did_ owe her and if she happened to like Quidditch this could be his chance to clear his debt.

Today her dress was blue with a silver lining and Harry thought if she had done something to please her family that they allowed her to wear something less horrible. But she didn't let on about anything and greeted him the usual, meaning with a frosty glare to him and a borderline friendly smirk to Saliha.

"And the Boy-Who-Lived managed to hold his title for another year", she said sarcastically, arms crossed before her chest. "Proud, Potter?"

"Ew, you sound like Malfoy sometimes, you know that?" He shook his head. "By the way, thanks for the holster. I suppose considering how much trouble I get in I'll need it sooner or later."  
"More sooner if you ask me. How are you doing, dear?" With the second part her tone shifted from cold to almost soft and she reached with her hand forward to stroke Saliha's head. The snake lay comfortably around Harry's shoulders and hissed happily.

"She's fine. Got me a cat for my birthday."  
"A cat?" She raised her brow.

"Yeah, you know. Hedwig, my owl, gives me mice. Saliha gives me cats." He nearly had a heart attack when he woke up to find a dead cat in his wardrobe.

"_It wasss a kneazle", _Saliha protested. "_Those are really hard to catch!"_

"_Of course, dear, I'm sorry."_

She wriggled her head proudly.

"I, uh, got a lot of mail too", Harry said. "From the box. Seems like you were right about this mail ward."

"Of course I was right", she huffed. "I'm _always_ right."  
"Yeah, well..." She couldn't make this any easier for him, could she? "I was thinking and..." ("Wonders _do_ happen", Daphne murmured.) "And you gave me this birthday present and helped me with Saliha and all, and I thought about a way how to repay you. So, yeah, I got these tickets from a, uh, friend, to the Quidditch World Cup this summer and I thought, maybe, you know, you'd want to go... with me? Just as friends, of course. It's on the 22nd of August." And when Daphne scowled, he added: "It's just that Ron goes with his family and Hermione doesn't like Quidditch but I have two tickets and it would be a shame to waste them, so..."

"Oh, _boys"_, the Slytherin girl said and rolled her eyes. "I helped you to raise one of the most dangerous and most illegal creatures on earth, arranged a darker than black magical ritual, and, the most difficult part, endured those horrible muggles without killing them, all for you. Only a boy and only a Gryffindor could think that this debt could be repaid by some stupid Quidditch game." She shook her head incredulously.

Harry's shoulders sagged a bit but before he could make a snide comment, Daphne continued.

"Well, but I suppose... This _could_ be a chance to polish your non-existent manners in front of really important people. Besides, that event just so happens to fall into the time gap where I have to come for recharging purposes anyway."

Harry blinked. He'd totally forgotten about the recharging thing. Sure, that was the only reason Daphne was still coming besides the ritual being complete, right? He actually was a little bit angry. If Ron had managed to get him tickets, he wouldn't have been able to go with him anyway without Daphne tagging along. Which meant now, in turn, that it would be quite unwise to meet with Ron at the Cup or to even let him know that he would be there too. It was not only the fact that he had gotten better seats, but also that he was there with a Slytherin, of all people. He would have to hide it from him if he didn't want to argue. Hell, he'd have to lie to his best friend. Just why did he have this distinct feeling that this was exactly what Daphne was aiming for?

Although he had made the offer, he felt like Daphne had blackmailed him to go with her. Was he being paranoid? Maybe, but then again, most Slytherins _were_ out to get him, right?

"So... you'll come?" he said finally.

She nodded but made a face as if he hadn't just invited her to the greatest event of the year but forced her to go out with him on a Valentine party that was organized by Lockhart. Year, her look was _that_ sour.

"Seems I have no other choice. But I will most definitely _not_ take you with me as you are now." She seized him up and Harry was painfully made aware of the baggy hand-me-down clothes he was forced to wear. They had once belonged to Dudley after all and he probably looked like some underfed, homeless drug addict. Which was exactly what his lovely relatives wanted him to look like.

"You need some proper robes – and _no_, your school robes don't count. I take it you've got at least some decent seats?"

"I got top box!" Harry said as if she should know that. Daphne gave him a small nod (the best seats were just barely enough to satisfy her) and Harry felt a ridiculous amount of pride. That wasn't healthy, right?

"Good, then there's a chance that we will meet some decent people. The minister maybe or some foreign politicians. You should show yourself from your best side. Unfortunately you don't have one, so we'll have to polish your bad one until it shines." She had her hands at her hips again and eyed him critically. "Well, I'd say that asks for a crash course in Pureblood-mannerisms."

Harry's stomach dropped.

[C2] "Lesson number one", Daphne said next day when they visited Diagon Alley, "the right clothes." She gestured to the clothing rack[C3] s around her that filled the little shop named Twilfitt and Tattings. "Pick out some dress robes, will you?"

Unsure Harry browsed through the clothing racks, picking up some black robes.

"No, you dimwit! I said school robes don't count." Daphne rolled her eyes. "Look, black is a neutral color, it may be accepted but it won't draw attention to you. It's used for everyday robes of the middle class. The upperclass wear tasteful combinations of colors and each of them symbolize their rank and intent."

"Oh. Okay", Harry said. "What about these then?" he fingered some silky red robes with gold lining.

Again, Daphne rolled her eyes. "To bright, Potter! Your Gryffindor pride in all esteem but you're not playing Quidditch yourself this time. This one would look utterly ridiculous on you."

"But they're dress robes!"

"Yes, but we're not going to a ball but to a formal meeting. You need something to fit in. Elegant enough to draw looks, but not bright enough to fall out of line." She walked over to some other corner and picked up an emerald green dress robe with black embroidery in the form of ivy twine. "This one would fit rather well", she said, eying him critically.

"Oh no, you'll not get me to wear Slytherin colors", Harry protested.

"Don't be stupid", she scolded him. "I picked those because they compliment your eyes. Green also symbolizes expectations for the establishing of new connections as well as intelligence and the willingness to deal with high prizes in the wizarding world."

Harry couldn't help the light pink blush that spread on his cheeks.

"Well, but still... no green please", he pleaded uncomfortably.

Daphne shot him a glare. "Fine then. I guess you could do with dark blue too. It would suit you well enough and stands for observation and openness to new opportunities." She strolled through the shop, shooting warning glances at the assistants telling them that _no_, she didn't want any help. "With yellow lining you tell the world that you're there to enjoy yourself, maybe meeting new friends. Green lining would mean you're already there to meet with specific people and want to be left alone. Black, as I said, is neutral, white would tell that you aren't there for Quidditch at all but for, I don't know, some strange creatures in the forest nobody else can see...it's like, a dreamy combination, you know. Nobody is putting blue and red together of course, much less orange, that's just tasteless. Purple is a signal that's you're looking for female companionship, so..." She picked up some robes in midnight blue with silver lining at the sleeves, silver buttons and some embroidery in the form of a Chinese dragon at the right shoulder.

"Slytherin colors", Harry said with a dark look.

Now Daphne looked angry. "Oh stuff it, Potter! Slytherin is the house of political connections! Half of the ministry is formed out of Slytherins and Ravenclaws! Only in the auror apartment and at the low ranks you'll find different people. Silver stands for seriousness, tolerance and resourcefulness. It's a good color and unlike emerald, it's not immediately connected to Slytherin. It's only our secondary color after all."

Begrudgingly Harry picked up the robe. Then his eyes widened. "Those are expensive!"

Daphne glanced at the label. "That's a perfectly fine price. In fact, I'd advise you to get it charmed. You're Harry Potter after all, you should be able to take action at any moment. Give your school robes and these to the assistant and tell them to be charmed to be water and fire proof, as well as resistant to ripping. It should also be able to transfigure into another cut at demand in case you have to run or fight. Maybe some shield charm as well and of course, one that allows it to grow as you do. I have those on all my robes too and it helps a lot with those bloody Weasleys going around pranking random people."

Harry stared at her incredulously. "Isn't that a bit, well, overreacting?"

"For any other person it would be, but you have a Dark Lord on your heels, so no, it isn't. Besides, you need a dress robe anyway for the Yule Ball this year. It was on the list of the Hogwarts letter, remember?"

"The Yule Ball? Hogwarts never had a Yule Ball! Besides I'm definitely not going to dance!"

Daphne sniffed at him. "It'll be the event of the year. But sure, if you want to commit social suicide, who am I to tell you otherwise?"

In the end, Harry let himself be talked into buying the robe and letting it be charmed. However, he only let one set of his school robes be updated that way. Daphne made him buy a bag too that he could use to hide Saliha in. In the end, he found that he had spent more money on this trip today than for his entire set of school supplies together. When he complained (living with the Dursleys and having never had any money for himself before Hogwarts had made him into a very frugal person) Daphne told him to grow some balls and stop wailing like a pussy. That shut him up effectively, if only from the shock of her using those words.

* * *

"Lesson number two", Daphne said half an hour later when they were back in Little Whinging. "The right way to walk and talk."  
"The right way to walk?" Harry repeated confused. "What is wrong with the way I-"

"First of all", she interrupted him without even looking at him, "don't let your shoulders hang like that. Stand straight, head high. No hiding in the shadows, you want to be noticed."

Harry had to stand straight before the Slytherin girl. She rounded him like a tiger processing its prey and hit him with a light slap whenever she thought his stance wasn't perfect.

"Now, there are different ways of walking for different purposes. Let's see..." She took a position around ten meters away from him. "Now imagine I am a high ranking ministry official out here to have fun at the game. Like Ludo Bagman for example. You recognize those at their bright colors and possibly even scarves or other things in the colors of one of the participating teams. You want to speak with them about Quidditch to build up a conversation. Be casual but show that you're beyond him in ranking."

"How should I pretend to be of a higher rank then a high ministry official?" Harry asked. "I'm not even of age."

"But you're the Boy-Who-Lived. You're famous, you're rich and you're there to build connections, not to enjoy some petty game. That purpose alone makes you more mature than this official. Now come to me and address me like that."  
Harry felt quite stupid but did as told. He strolled over to Daphne like he would to Ron and said, "Uh, good morning, sir. Are you exited for the game?"

"No, no, no!", Daphne cried. "You don't know this person yet, prat. Pretend you want to have some information about the game first. The person will eventually turn around and recognize you. And for Salazar's sake, no 'uh's or 'ehm's! If you don't know what to say, fill the gap with a 'well'. That sounds at least a little bit dignified. Also, your walking. You're not approaching a friend. Be casual, but not too familiar. Take your hands out of your bloody pockets and don't drag your feet! Walk over here and address me like you would to that biased commentator, what was his name, Jordan, during a game where you don't take part in. Try again."

Daphne wasn't content with his second try either, nor with his third but after the fourth she said that it would have to suffice. By then the awkwardness of the situation had diminished slightly and Harry had come to terms with the fact that he was taught and scolded from a girl no older than him to behave as if he went to a congress when in reality he just wanted to enjoy a good Quidditch game. Just when Harry thought they were finished, Daphne said he had to act completely different if he met someone who was actually higher ranking, like the minister of magic for example, or a foreign official. She even told him how to act around Lucius Malfoy, a high official that was bound to attend the Cup too, most likely in the same box as they were (since it was the best and the best is only ever just enough for a Slytherin.) They spent almost two hours on this subject.

* * *

"Lesson number three, conversation", Daphne said, walking up and down before him like a military officer. "Using the game as a first attempt to address people is all well and good, since it's neutral ground. Avoid siding with one team until you know where your counterpart stands. Remember, Ireland has the better team, but Bulgaria has the better seeker. Bring out those to explain why you side with your counterpart's decision – and no, your own opinion doesn't matter. If you're asked which is your favorite team beforehand tell them that you're neutral since your native team is England. They're both good enough and don't have a lot of enemies. Bring out the good in both teams playing style and pretend that you can't decide. You can let yourself convince to side with one of the teams, but don't make it too easy."

"You know an awful lot about Quidditch, don't you?", Harry asked surprised.

"Actually, no. I read some about it after you told me we're going so I could join in a conversation."

"Oh. That's very... Slytherin."

"Why, thank you. Anyway, once the ice is broken you can start fishing for information. This will be your first public entrance and you seem to be terribly unaware of ongoing politics. Try to hide that fact by letting your counterpart do the talking, but don't ask too many questions. You could ask ministry officials how it felt like to work with other countries, if it was easy. You may get to know whenever the countries are on friendly terms or not. A minister you could praise for the great event, asking if it wasn't too much stress for him. There you could get information whenever things in the ministry are strained, what problems there are, financially or politically. You won't be able to use the knowledge yet but you show early that you're interested and thus present yourself as a potentially ally."

Harry didn't bother asking why anyone would want him as an ally. He highly doubted that his fame reached that far. Also, he just didn't care for politics. He was even a little bit afraid of being used like that. It probably had to do with his suspicion of Daphne's real motives.

The talking lessons took even more time and the Slytherin wouldn't let him get any diner before she was satisfied with his conversation skills. She told him again and again that he had to be aware of the relationship he had with his counterpart, and the one he wanted to have. For the most part that was information gathering but she also warned him that there would be people not willing to tell him anything. For an entire hour, Daphne hammered the vocabulary of subtle hints in his head until he could read the message of the downside of the downside of a statement.

* * *

"Lesson number four" (Harry groaned), "emotion management. I know that you enjoy Quidditch – Salazar knows why – and of course the actual game isn't the right time for conversation. Just keep in mind that your main purpose isn't cheering on some idiots on flying brooms."

"But that _is_ my actual purpose!", Harry protested.

Daphne sniffed. "Well, then you'll just have to pretend it's not. Keep your emotions in check. No screaming, no victory dancing and no buying of useless souvenirs. At least not while people watch you. It's just embarrassing."

"But I want to have fun! That's why I'm going, okay?"

"Listen closely, Potter. If I find you swearing your eternal love to some Quidditch idol or something equally stupid I will leave you immediately. I'm not putting up with that kind of behavior in public. And if I leave during the Cup then Saliha's magic will not have enough time to recharge properly and if that doesn't happen, well, then it's up to you to find some dead infants for a new ritual, or poison all the people that are present to the Cup, thus dying yourself or being imprisoned, whatever comes first. You want to deal with that?"

"No", Harry admitted grumpy.

"Then you should listen to me. I'm not forbidding you to be happy or to cheer together with the crowd when a goal is made. But I want you to remain on your seat, not bouncing around like a five-year-old. I want you to stay aware of your surroundings when you wander through the camp – there're a lot of thieves around there. You'll behave yourself."

"Yes, Ma'am", Harry said, eyes rolling.

"Good. Now, the same goes, of course, for negative emotion you might feel when someone insults you or your favorite team loses. We'll practice that now, since it is easier to wake those emotions in you."

This time Daphne did her best to act like Malfoy junior. Her insults were far more creative though and Harry had to admit, they hurt a lot more too. This time he didn't have to think about some intelligent remark. He just had to sit there letting her rant without showing emotion on his face, and, later on, smiling through the whole of it. It got incredibly hard when she stared insulting his parents, however.

"And those ugly glasses you wear! Thick like an ashtray. Did you get that one from your mother or your father? Either way, they were both quite blind if they didn't see their death coming, weren't they? Do you miss mommy and daddy, Potter? You can't mean too much for them if they let you be shipped off to some disgusting muggles. Didn't even bother to write a will, huh? In that case I guess you weren't worth the trouble."

"Shut the fuck up!" Harry screamed. Oh, he had enough, he had enough of that!

For a moment, it was quiet and Harry needed some time to remember what this was about.

"What is your damn problem?" Daphne asked. "You don't even blink when I insult you, your appearance or your skills but you throw a tantrum when I talk about your parent, that you don't even know anything about?"

"I know about my parents, alright? They were good people – the best! I only survived that night because my mother loved me so much she sacrificed her life for me. You have no right to talk about them like that!"

"Oh, for the sake of...! You don't even remember them. I'm not saying that you can't cherish their memory. But people will use that against you if you let them. There will be moments when it is necessary to fight over something like that, moments when you'll have to impress friends of your parents for example. But when it is just the both of us I expect you to show no weakness."

"Tss", Harry made, "so you're one of those people that think of... of love and friendship as weakness, aren't you?"

"That's not what I said. Far from it! You should have such feelings, everybody should. But to use their power properly you have to keep them close to your heart. You have to keep them hidden from enemies. Now, sit down. We'll try this again, this time with your friends."

By the end of the lesson, Harry wanted to kill something.

* * *

"Lesson number five. The final lesson: interview."

"Interview?" Harry asked growling, still mad about the last 'lesson'. "What kind of interview?"

"Well, obviously you have to take Saliha with you. The Cup begins on the 22nd of August but we'll have to arrive on the 21st to build the tent and everything. Depending on how long the game is, we could be there two days to a week, maximum. I'm certainly not staying any longer. You can't leave her alone, not to mention that I'm only coming with you to be with her anyway. You can use that bag we bought to hide her but if someone notices her you'll have to be prepared to explain why you have a three feet long snake with you. Same goes once you go back to Hogwarts, if you want to keep her around. I already tried to find an alibi for her – a species that she can pretend to belong to. Can you tell me where she is now?"

"Ah, well, she was a little bit tired and when she understood that you'd give me... lessons... she went for a nap. Always liked those bushes over there, though." Together they went to the edge of the park and indeed there was Saliha, curled into a tight spiral and dosing in the shadows.

"Don't bother waking her", Daphne said. "I just wanted to make sure of something." She inspected Saliha a little more and nodded. "Her scales do have some sort of muster. I guess this could work." She turned to him again and pulled a sheet of paper from her bag that had the picture of a large snake. "I think we could pretend she is a _Broghammerus reticulatus. _It's a non-magical species and one people only have few information about. They're said to be non-venomous and that they can get really big, up to seven meters. They're nocturnal so you won't have a problem letting her stay in your rooms. Then again, you can carry her around easily enough too, since you're a parselmouth. It's unknown how long these snakes live and their color varies so no problem here."

Harry nodded. "Okay then, I'll try to remember that name. Anything else?"

"Well, you'll have to have a cover story on how you obtained her. Maybe she was a present to your Cousin who wished to have some 'cool', 'rare' pet but quickly grew bored of it. You could tell that the mini walrus noticed it had taken a liking to you and wanted to hurt it to spite you, so you'll have to take it with you to protect it. That vaguely sounds like what the boy hero would do. It should earn you sympathy points to tell people how awful your relatives are, but be careful to not sound like you hate them. Of course you have every right to do that, but people are just a little sensitive when a wizard says he hates muggles."  
"I don't-"

"On another note, people will notice us together too. They will want to know why we went to the Cup together, not only there, but later in school too."

Harry scowled. "Oh, and I guess you already have a 'cover story' for that one too?"  
"Actually, no. I thought I could leave at least _some_ work to you. Just so that you don't get bored."

He groaned. "Come on, Daphne, just tell Me."

She raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know that we were on a first-name-basis already, Potter. Fine then, there are different options. First, the easiest, that we have some kind of school project over the summer together. That excuse only works in front of adults that don't have connections to Hogwarts of course. Secondly that you expressed an interest in joining some decent social circles but heard horror stories about reporters dismantling their victims and contacted me because of my connections to the Daily Prophet."

Harry looked up. "You have connections to the Daily Prophet?"  
"My father works there as an editor. But we'd have to be very careful with this one, since my father doesn't really approve of what I'm doing. Well, he wouldn't approve, if he knew. The third option would be that we tell people that we're dating."

"Okay, then – wait, what?"

"Dating, Potter. It means-"  
"I know what dating means! I mean, why can't we just be... friends...?"

Another eyeroll. It seemed to be a habit of her. "Because that is too suspicious. Everybody would immediately assume that I'm using you, blackmailing you or something like that."  
"Which is right", he murmured.

"That's beside the point. Nobody would believe that Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass became friends over the span of just one summer, not after they ignored each other for three years. But with a romantic relationship, it would make things a lot easier. Nobody questions those, because you can't chose who you fall in love with. It just happens."

"Yeah, but, I mean... Wouldn't that be, I don't know, kind of a scandal?" He found himself extremely uncomfortable with this subject. He would've really liked another way but Daphne seemed to him like that kind of girl that got terribly insulted if rejected.

"Probably, yes. But my family is neutral enough so that light families would believe, when we manage to put on a good show, that the love is real and my standing in Slytherin is good enough that I could easily make them think that I'm only using you. There would probably be some rumors about love potions but that would only be classroom gossip. After some time we could have an epic break up. Depending on how things go with Saliha and whenever or not you've managed by that time to repay me properly, we can either return to ignoring each other or break up with the decision to 'stay friends'."  
Harry shifted nervously. "I dunno. My friends would certainly kill me. And your family hates me by now."

"That's not true. My father wouldn't like to be pulled into this. But as long as all the important people – and with that I mean people who wouldn't hesitate to hurt someone close to you to get to you – know that I'm using you and of course, as long as I don't express a sudden desire to marry a light wizard, he'll tolerate it."

"You're sure about that?" Harry asked skeptically.  
"I'll make him understand", she snapped. "That is, _if_ we do it that way."

"Yeah, but - why would you want to anyway? I can tell that you don't fancy being around me."

"Honestly?" She smirked at him. "I'm just bored. A little excitement is exactly what I feel I need after all the interesting stuff went by me without notice for the last three years. Slytherins don't like being out of the loop. But if you have a better idea, I'll gladly hear it."

Unfortunately, Harry didn't have a better suggestion, but he swore to himself that he wouldn't stop searching for one until the Cup began!


	4. The Quidditch World Cup

Chapter four - The Quidditch World Cup

_Daphne swallowed her insult as she saw the dangerous glint in his eyes. _

_Finally she just huffed and threw her arms into the air. _

_"__Fine! Lets tackle down a Death Eater."_

_Daphne G. to Sirius B._

* * *

Harry woke up with a start, heavily panting and threw the sheets away. His scar hurt like hell and his vision was blurry. Blindly, he grabbed his glasses and stumbled to the bathroom across the hall. Once there, he splashed some cold water into his face and leaned against the sink until his breathing was calmer.

Someone wanted to kill him. Someone _planned_ to kill him. He had no doubt about who it was, but the details of his dream, vision, whatever it was, faded as his mind woke up completely. There was Pettigrew, he remembered, and they were talking about some woman... Bertha Joggins? No, Jorkins! She knew something they wanted to know... But what was it?

With a shudder, Harry remembered the prophecy Trelawney had told him at the end of the last school term. Was it that? Was Pettigrew the servant freed of his chains? Would he help Voldemort to come back? And was it really a coincidence that Voldemort had a giant snake that fit the description of the_ Broghammerus reticulatus_ perfectly?

Harry's thoughts raced but the details of the dream already began to slip his mind. He stormed back into his room and snatched a piece of paper and a quill out of his trunk. Rapidly, he wrote down what he remembered of the dream. Of course, it was possible that it was just that, a dream, but with a dream, even a nightmare, his scar never hurt. In fact, it only ever did that when it had something to do with Voldemort.

Suddenly tired, the boy lied down again. However, he almost jumped three feet in the air as he felt someone lying _beside him_! A soft hissing however reassured him – it was only Saliha. He was still not used to her slithering into his bed at night. He had prepared her a basket with hay to sleep in but with him not being allowed to cast magic he couldn't put a heating charm on it. The Basilisk had complained about not being warm enough and had simply come to him to use his body heat.

"_Are you hurt?"_ the little snake asked worried and raised her head to get a better look at him.

"_It's nothing", _he replied, _"just a bad dream."_

"_There're fuzzy thingsss going through you head_", Saliha said and Harry snickered.

"_Yeah, I suppose you're right."_

"_Bad fuzzy things! Go away_", Saliha hissed. She poked her head against him and he stared at her a little dumbfounded. The serpent flickered her little tongue and as soon as it touched his scar the burning stopped abruptly.

"_There_", Saliha said smugly, _"much better."_

Harry stared at her some more. What the hell...? He hadn't known that she could do that. He never heard of Basilisks doing any form of healing.

"_What did you do?_" he asked.

Saliha flicked her tail, which Harry learned to interpret as a shrug._ "I chasssed away the funny thingsss that made your head go all fuzzy."_

Harry blinked some more but finally decided to let it go. It wasn't as if there were any records of the influence of Basilisks on curse scars, right? He was just glad the pain stopped.

"_Thank you, Saliha_", he said and his snake hissed happily before curling up against him once more.

* * *

The rest of the night Harry slept without any further dreams. He woke up early in the morning and felt as fresh as could be. Humming a tune, he packed everything he needed for the following days and coerced Saliha into her basket.

"_This will be fun, Saliha. We're going to see the greatest Quidditch game, like, ever, really!"_

"_Does mistress come too?"_

Harry looked down at her strangely. He still wasn't used to her calling him 'master' but it made him worry that Daphne was 'mistress' for her. He had tried to get her to just call them by their names, but Saliha refused, saying he didn't look that 'hairy' and she wouldn't want to insult him. He had stared at her some more until she had begun to snicker.

"_Daphne is coming too, yes. You'll also get to meet my godfather, Sirius. He can turn into a dog. Be nice to him, okay?_" With being nice, he meant: Please don't eat the big black dog. He hoped she got the hint.

When Harry went down for breakfast, he had a really hard time pretending to be miserable.

"Do I really have to go on this trip?" he whined to his aunt and uncle. "This girl is so annoying. And those other kids only talk about praying and how sin is bad... And they really don't like me, I think they might believe I'm possessed by a demon or something like that."

Harry thought he sounded a little childish, but Vernon looked very smug and grinned down at him.

"That is just the right thing for you, boy! They will teach you some manners I hope!"

Petunia nodded and chirped: "That's right, dear!"

Harry dropped his head to hide his smirk as Dudley teased him about being a devil's child.

Apparently, since Harry and Daphne went to the Cup without an adult his relatives had to sign a permission slip. Daphne had brought him a parchment that was enchanted to look like an invitation to a trip of her 'church' where they would be working in a soup kitchen for homeless people and beggars. They'd apparently live under the same conditions as those poor people to better understand their life. Suffice to say the entire family, including Dudley, had been crazy about who got to sign the paper first.

So when Harry left the house to meet with his godfather early the Dursleys weren't any problem. He had described the abandoned spot in the park where he met with Daphne in a letter to Sirius. Still he was nervous as he arrived there. Sirius was still on the run and if anyone saw him... But there were no people there, just a big dirty dog with black fur. The dog wagged his tail like crazy as he saw Harry and came running towards him. He set Saliha's basket and his backpack aside in a rush before Sirius came to tackle him down. After some breathless laughing and begs of mercy, Harry was finally freed. Sirius turned back into human and caught him in a hug.

"Gods, it's so good to see you again!", he exclaimed and ruffled his hair. "I can't believe I left you with those horrible people for so long. How are you, Prongslet?"

"I'm fine, thanks", Harry smiled. "More than fine, actually. The Dursleys think I'm working with 'Sarah Green' at the church, cleaning up parks and the like. I pretend to hate it so they mainly tease me about that and don't have time to insult me or my parents. That's my alibi for the cup too, by the way."

"That's great, it will be so much fun! You're taking your girlfriend with you then?"

Harry bit his lip. He wanted to correct Sirius that she wasn't his girlfriend. But then he'd have to talk about the Basilisk, right? And the dark ritual he did. Being a Parselmouth was one thing. People who knew him might not judge him on that, but he only had to look at Ron to see that raising a Basilisk was a whole other thing entirely. Still, his best friends knew about it and Harry craved for Sirius to accept him like he was, just like they did. Well, like Hermione did, anyway.

"Daphne isn't my girlfriend, Sirius. Although we'll likely pretend to, soon."

"What do you mean, pretend?" he asked confused.

Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Well, she helped me with that project, you know. It's... Well, it's in here." He lifted the lid of the basket a bit so that Sirius could see the snake curled in there.

"The – what the hell!"

"_That's a rude one_", Saliha complained, _"and he sssmells like wet fur."_

"I kind of found her and... Well, she's been with me ever since. But her care needs some expert. It's a magical snake. Daphne happened to see her and offered some knowledge of the library of her parents." Harry had decided to take a middle way. He wouldn't lie to Sirius and when he figured it out on his own, fine.

"You got yourself a magical snake", Sirius repeated dully. Harry saw him glance at Saliha's ochre eyes, scowling. "Where exactly did you find it?" he asked suspiciously.

"Uh..."

Suddenly recognition covered his look. "Never mind, I don't want to know. Just... You're sure it's safe to keep it around?"

Harry let out his breath relieved. "Yeah, she understands me and follows my commands. And as I said, Daphne helped me to take care of her, uh, more dangerous traits. She'll pretend to be some harmless python, though."

"Yes, that's probably safer." Suddenly a grin spread over his godfathers face. "You know, that sort of reminds me of Hagrid. He also raised some dangerous beasts in secret. I mean really dangerous beasts, but somehow there was never anyone hurt."

Harry thought about Ron being bitten by Norbert and Malfoy's little show with Buckbeak. Not to mention the giant spiders that almost ate him and Ron during their second year. But he didn't say anything.

"How do you know Hagrid anyway?" Harry asked to change the subject.

"Well, Dumbledore trusted him and even if he wasn't that, uh, useful, he belonged to a resistance group we had during the first war. Your parents were part of it too. But that's in the past now, let's not dwell on it."

"Right. The next portkey is in London. I'm supposed to meet Daphne there at midday, so we'll have to take the Knight Bus, I guess."

"I know where it is but if you don't mind I'd rather apparate. Don't want to draw attention after all. But it's even more uncomfortable then the bus, so if you want to take it, that's okay."

Harry nodded, although he couldn't imagine a means of travel that was more uncomfortable than the Knight Bus. Sirius gave him a last hug before transforming again.

The boy watched the dog running through the park until he was out of view. Then he took his luggage and held out his wand.

* * *

"What is the meaning of this?" Daphne hissed furiously.

Harry ducked his head. "Uh, I'm not sure what you're talking about..."

"Are you kidding me!? You're not dressed, you're carrying Saliha around in the open and what the bloody hell do you want with that dog!?"

Harry straightened his back a bit. "Well, that is kind of... my dog... and I couldn't walk around in muggle London in wizarding robes, right?"

Sirius looked from Harry to Daphne and wagged his tail.

Daphne groaned. They were standing in an abandoned Alley, twenty minutes early. Daphne already wore her dress robe. It was light turquoise with silver lining and left her arms free. Her blonde hair was pinned up and decorated with little silver flowers that seemed to hover over her hair on their own. Harry had to admit that she looked very pretty, but didn't dare to tell her so.

"Tell your dog to go home and search for a corner to change in. There will be other people here soon", Daphne demanded.

Harry wanted to protest, but it was useless. He was shoved into a dark corner of the Alley and he swore that Sirius bark sounded like laughter.

Some minutes later, he was finished. Saliha was safely inside of his bag, but Daphne hadn't managed to get rid of Padfoot.

"Can't he just come with us?" Harry pleaded.

"Why would you want to bring him anyway?" she asked. "I mean – you can't tell me it's yours. I never saw him around and besides I doubt your relatives would allow that. Besides, you're not allowed to bring any animals there. They make exceptions for typical wizarding pets like owls and cats. Otherwise, it wouldn't be possible to bring Saliha, but a dog would never get in there."

"But why not?", Harry pouted.

"Don't know, something about animagi smuggling themselves in without buying a ticket."

Sirius stopped his tail-wagging abruptly and stared at her. Harry gaped, but managed to recover quickly as he realized that it was a joke.

"Haha, don't know what you're talking about. What is an animagi anyway?"

But it was already too late. Daphne looked from Padfoot to Harry and back again. Now she was the one gaping. "You're kidding me, right?" the girl asked incredulously.

"Uh..."

"What the hell – you said you didn't know anyone else to ask out for this! A bloody animagus! Isn't it enough that we're going without an adult, which is, technically, illegal considering your relatives know nothing about it? Isn't it enough that you're bringing Saliha? Now you have to bring an unregistered animagus too?"

"Padfoot isn't-"

"Oh, don't give me that shit! I researched that for Professor Snape's essay, the difference between werewolves and animagi. There are only seven registered animagi in Britain and none of them are dogs! I don't think you got many chances to get to know foreign wizards, so who the hell is that?!"

Harry didn't know what to say. He just stood there as the seconds ticked by. Suddenly Padfoot gave a sigh and before Harry could do so much as blink he had already transformed. Sirius wasn't wearing his Azkaban robes any longer, but his clothes weren't good either. They looked as if he had stolen them from various washing lines without looking for a proper size or combination. His face and hair was dirty and his nails almost black. Although his cheeks weren't as hollow and the crazy glint in his eyes had diminished slightly, he was still recognizable as the convicted murderer from the newspaper.

Daphne froze up as she saw him, a flash of fear in her eyes. She was quick to draw her wand, but Harry was just as fast to stand before her.

"No, Daphne! Sirius is innocent, he's no murderer and no death eater! In fact, he's my godfather and the one who gave me the tickets."

Daphne stared at him like he was crazy. "You were the one to help him escape? What were you thinking?"

"I was tricked, okay?", Sirius said. "I always only wanted to protect Harry. There was a death eater hidden at Hogwarts – another animagus."

"That's true, I saw him – it was Peter Pettigrew! He was the one who betrayed my parents to Voldemort, not him! He only chased Pettigrew out of revenge and didn't even get him before the rat blew up the street."

"Harry", Daphne said very slowly, "You're confunded. Maybe even imperiused. This man has killed thirteen people-"

"That wasn't him, that was Pettigrew!"

"How can you be so sure?! Even if Pettigrew was alive, even if he was the traitor and not that... that dog, it's still entirely possible that he killed those muggles while chasing after him. It's still possible that he went crazy in Azkaban. Anyone would be ready to kill after such a long time there!"

"But-"

"It's okay, Harry", Sirius said surprisingly. "She's right. You do not have any proof that I'm not dangerous – or sane, for that matter." He looked over to the girl curiously. "You truly are a clever Slytherin, aren't you? But what I wonder is – why do you care?"

Daphne spluttered. "What?"

"Why do you care?" he repeated. "Why do you care if I'm a death eater or not? Doesn't the Greengrass family have dark tendencies too? Why do you care if I killed those muggles? Aren't they beneath you? And most certainly you cannot care if I'm a traitor to some light family or not, can you?"

Daphne was silenced for a moment. Her wand was still out though and didn't waver.

"I care about Harry", she said finally. "He is far more valuable to me than you are. Therefore, I cannot let you kill or use him."

Now Harry stared at her too. It was the first time she had called him by his first name. That almost sounded as if she liked him. Almost.

Sirius laughed. "Harry, that one is okay", he said and patted his shoulder.

"And you don't have anything to worry about. I, Sirius Orion Black, hereby swear that I have no intention whatsoever to harm or use Harry James Potter in any way possibly imaginable. By my magic!" A light green gleam covering the animagus could be seen for a moment as his magic accepted the oath. Daphne still didn't look convinced, but she lowered her wand eventually.

"Fine then. I won't tell on you, but you're most definitely not coming with us."

"Oh?" Now Sirius gave her his own evil smirk and, considering he had twelve years worth of experience of evil insane smirks, his was quite effective. "And what exactly are you going to do to stop me?"

Daphne shivered slightly. "I – Well, you won't pass through the security, so..."

"He will!" Harry called and opened his backpack. Slightly puzzled, Sirius caught the cloak. Then, he grinned, threw it over himself and vanished from sight.

"See? Problem's gone", Harry snickered.

Daphne wanted to face-palm.

Footsteps could be heard at the end of the alley and a group of wizards entered, effectively ending their conversation. They were obviously trying to pass as muggles and obviously failing to do so. Harry didn't think anyone wore rubber boots on a hot summer day – or a life jacket, for that matter.

The group was laughing and talking amongst themselves. After some minutes another two witches arrived. Daphne had already found the portkey – it was a wooden spoon sticking out of one of the trash bags. Unable to address the subject of Sirius, she was forced to play nice as everyone grabbed a hold on the spoon.

Harry had seen Daphne using her portkey to visit him and she had explained to him the rough concept of them. But never would he have thought that there could be a way of traveling that was even worse then flooing, other than the Knight Bus. When he had finally found solid ground under his feet again, he promptly stumbled and dragged half a dozen other people with him to the ground. Daphne looked as if she wanted to deny that she'd ever known him.

"Stand up, you great oaf", she hissed at him and grabbed his arm.

One of the wizards took the spoon to take it to the box for used portkeys so Harry and Daphne were able to sneak away quickly. The Slytherin girl pulled him behind some large trees without even so much as looking at the long line of waiting people at the edge of the forest.

"Where are we?" Harry wanted to know but she quickly silenced him and drew her wand.

Murmuring words he didn't understand Daphne waved it before his face. Harry felt all tingly a moment later and his vision became blurred.

"What was that?", he asked suspiciously.

"I charmed your hair a little longer so that it doesn't look so unkempt. Also I fixed your vision – those glasses are simply horrible. No respected wizard under the age of forty wears glasses. It's a temporary spell however, only for today. I would advise you to go to an expert later. That way you're unlikely to be recognized immediately but you will still be able to identify yourself."

Harry took off his glasses and found that he could see even better now without them as he had a few minutes prior with them on. Next, he touched his hair that was now around shoulder length. He quickly let the strands go when he found that the tips were dried emerald green.

"Daphne...!" he growled.

She looked at him with her most innocent smile. "Well, that can happen sometimes. I'm not a charms expert."

"How could you do magic anyway?" he asked. "It's forbidden and this time you used your wand."

"Yeah", she scoffed, "but this time we're surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of wizards. The ministry couldn't find out who was it even if they tried without checking my wand, which they won't bother to do. Now come on, I want to get this over with."

"I'll wait for you on the other side", Sirius whispered, making Harry jump and look around.

"Stupid", Daphne hissed, "don't be so obvious."

But Sirius was already gone, sneaking though the forest. Harry and Daphne lined up together with the other wizards. Harry noticed that the assistant seemed to be quite suspicious of them.

"Bloody idiots hiring a muggle", Daphne muttered as some ministry official came by to obliviate the poor man for what seemed to by the tenth time that day. Harry secretly agreed with her. He got that they were using a muggle campsite to hold the Cup. But couldn't they just rent the whole thing and call it a private party? Surely you could find some wizard to let them all in, one who was used to big golden galleons and house-elves carrying the luggage.

Harry found that even with their dress robes they looked more normal than those purebloods trying to look like muggles. Daphne only waved with their tickets (when the hell had she snatched them away from him?) and they were let through.

"Now remember what I told you", Daphne whispered when they entered what seemed to be a giant town entirely made out of magical tents. "Don't behave like you're a mudblood entering Diagon Alley for the first time, got it?" Somehow, she managed to make it sound more like a scolding of a strict mother than biased insult. Harry got still mad at her, but within the last few weeks, he had to endure far worse from her so he kept his mouth shut. He was far too busy anyway: gaping at the twenty feet high two-storied tents that looked more like miniature villas, exploring the souvenir stands and listening to the many languages people around him spoke.

"Listen, Potter – Harry", Daphne reminded herself, although begrudgingly. "Since it would seem very strange indeed for us to be here without an adult for supervision I enlisted us with a group of Beauxbatons' students. There's an entire class here today and a friend of a friend of mine has a cousin there. We'll have to stay in their tents for the night but are free to go wherever we want during the day. It's also a good alibi to explain how we got to know each other better, so – are you even listening?"

"Uh, what?" Harry, who had watched with barely contained laughter how Sirius stole a lolly from a small child and waggled it before its nose, which, with him being invisible, looked as if it was flowing freely in the air, looked up to her again.

"Sorry, what is Beauxbatons?"

"It's a French magical school", she answered through gritted teeth. "Your dogfather can sleep outside on the doormat for all I care." With these words she hold her nose high and stalked in the direction of some French flags in the distance.

* * *

As in turned out there were three tents – one for the teacher, a big one for the girls and a smaller one for the few boys. But even if they looked as if they could barely hold a family, let alone a whole class, the tents were quite spacious inside. There were always two people in one room, although the boys were odd numbered so Harry could get his own. He promptly took advantage of that by letting the still invisible Sirius inside. Since there wasn't a second bed he still had to sleep on the floor in his dog-form, but his godfather assured him that was absolutely no problem. After more than a year on the run, he was used to it.

The next day they went to the stadium excited (except Daphne). Harry had a run-in with Ludo Bagman, who just so happened to be one of the example ministry employees Daphne had trained him to speak with. Of course, Harry was far too excited to remember all the lessons because there was a single foot just behind the man seemingly walking around without a body. He excused himself as fast as possible and stepped on the foot, hard, to make sure Sirius hid better. There was a barely audible "Ouch!" and the foot vanished.

"Who do we have here?" another familiar voice called and Harry turned around. He had almost reached his seat when he came face to face with Malfoy.

"What are you doing here, Potter? And without your friends, too? Have they finally ditched you?"

Anger built in Harry's stomach but he forced himself to remain calm.

"I could ask you the same question. Never going anywhere without mommy and daddy, hm?" He nodded in the direction of Lucius and a tall woman who must be Narcissa Malfoy, who were talking to the Minister of Magic. Daphne was standing a few meters away, listening inconspicuously to their conversation. Harry was almost sure Sirius was beside him, gripping his wand and ready to curse the Malfoy heir. He had to be careful.

"Well, you wouldn't understand that, would you?" Malfoy said incisively. "Because you don't have any!"

That was a low blow. Sure, he had heard worse from Daphne but this was the real thing. Harry just grabbed his wand under his robes, when Lucius Malfoy and his wife came by.

"Draco, son, what are you doing here?" he asked just as incisively. "Not picking a fight I hope? In the middle of the stadium... I had thought my son slier than that." He turned to Harry, a polite mask hiding his disgust. "I apologize for him."

While Draco turned an ugly shade of red, Harry noticed the Minister coming in their direction. Malfoy couldn't afford threatening him. Ha!

"It's not your mistake, Mr. Malfoy", he said reassuringly. "Light travels faster than sound. That's why some people appear bright until they open their mouth."

Harry was sure the Malfoys were having a hard job not to gape at him (Draco failed spectacularly). His anger immediately faded as he inwardly snickered at their faces, while still holding his neutral mask. Daphne had taught him that saying (more than used it to insult him) and he thought it was quite a good sarcastic remark and subtle insult. Especially since nobody expected it of him.

"Why, you little-", Malfoy senior growled, gripping his staff harder in anger. But now the minister had arrived, calling out loud:

"Ah, and here we have Mr. Malfoy! A really good adviser, he made a large donation to St Mungos just last week... Mr. Malfoy, this is the Bulgarian Minister, I can't pronounce his name..."

Malfoy turned to Fudge, still with that sour expression on his face, which lead the attention to Harry.

"Oh, Harry, my boy! Such a surprise to see you here! Minister, may I introduce... Ah, he doesn't understand one word of what I say..." Fudge had gripped Harry by his shoulder faster than he could blink and practically shoved him into the face of the foreign minister. It seemed to take effect, because the small man looked at him puzzled at first, before his eyes wandered to his forehead slowly. Then his eyes widened and he pointed at Harry, calling out words in a different language.

"Ha! Knew we could understand each other", Fudge said smugly.

That was when Harry caught sight of Daphne making furious gestures at him as inconspicuously as possible. Harry, remembering his lessons, gave up trying to wriggle his way out of Fudges grasp.

"Well, it's nice to see you again too, Minister", he said politely.

"Huh?" made Fudge, who had seemingly forgotten that he could speak too. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry about that disaster last year, by the way. But we'll catch that convict, that's for sure."

Harry had to think about what Fudge would say if he told him that said convict was standing just a few feet behind him. It made it hard to keep up with his mask but Daphne would strangle him if she found out that the Minister practically said he'd owe Harry a favor and he hadn't taken advantage of it. Okay, he had to do this right – first the guilty trip, then some undeserved praise...

"Yeah, I was really worried about that. The whole thing with him escaping right under the dementor's noses – though I heard he hasn't been seen since. I'm sure the ministry will manage to capture him soon."

Fudge nodded, although slightly uncomfortable. "Yes, of course... I think the fact that he was almost kissed frightened him away, though. Personally I think he's out of the country and thus, not within ministry responsibility anymore."

"Does that mean there won't be any dementors at Hogwarts this year? I really didn't like them" he asked with his best big innocent eyes.

"No, no of course not!" Fudge exclaimed immediately. "Not after they repeatedly threatened the students. It would be impossible anyway with the upcoming event there."

Now Harry was confused. Which event did he mean? He was about to ask when Daphne came along searching for her seat and stepping on his foot, hard. Right, he remembered painfully, never admit that you don't know something if there's a chance of the other spilling the beans.

"Of course, Minister I forgot. The dementors once came to a Quidditch game we held and it was terrible. One cannot expose so many people to such a threat."

"That's just what I mean, Harry! I don't even want to think about what kind of international uproar that would cause. Now, if you'd excuse me, I think they're starting..."

The two ministers went ahead to take their seats. The Malfoys were already gone so Harry went to sit next to Daphne. Sitting down there turned out to be quite difficult since Sirius was standing in the way, leaning against the balustrade. Harry cursed him just silent enough to not to be heard by anyone else, receiving a chuckle. Finally, he managed to settle next to Daphne. They could see the advertisement boards in the distance through Sirius' invisible body, who had enough brain to avoid shouting in joy when the boards switched from "All you can eat is cauldron cake" to "Ireland 0:0 Bulgaria".

"How was I?" he asked, since Daphne had yet to look at him.

"Well... You managed to avoid the subject of your lack of guardian during an international event. But you didn't get any useful information so I'd say you did okay... for a Gryffindor."

That meant he had excelled her expectations by far.

"Oh no", the Slytherin girl called suddenly and grabbed his hand. "Harry, stay with me, alright?"

"What are you talking abou-"

Harry was cut off midsentence as the most beautiful girls he'd ever seen entered the stadium.

"Veela – I don't believe it!" Daphne called angrily, but Harry didn't hear her. His legs were moving on their own as he stepped forward and – bumped into Sirius.

"Come back you stupid brat!" Daphne called and grabbed them both by their cloaks. She threw Harry back into his seat and Sirius to the empty one on the other side. Next to that one sat a little elf who seemed to be scared shitless of the height and was covering her eyes with her hands. Luckily, everyone else was too entranced with the Veela's dance to notice her high pitched squeak as there was a loud rumbling when Sirius seemed to miss the seat and fell to the ground. Harry was sure he saw a bodyless leg and made a point of apologizing to the elf for scaring her (which was sure to distract any elf since nobody ever apologized to them) to give the owner time to hide the leg.

When he finally turned around the Veelas were gone and a horde of little green man let the sky explode in sparks and fire.

"That was close", Daphne whispered when he sat down. "Didn't I tell you to stay where you are? Hopefully nobody saw you acting like an idiot." Harry though read the underlining message: Sirius could have been easily discovered.

"I'm sorry", he whispered back and made sure to look guilty. The Slytherin just made "Tsk" sound and resumed watching the game, ignoring him.

Five hours later the snitch was caught by Krum, but Ireland won and the celebrations started. Daphne insisted on dragging him with her to meet several important people who all did a lot of boring talking. When he was finally free to raid the shops and have some fun, he noticed something rather alarming.

"Daphne – you don't happen to have seen Si-, err, Snuffles, do you?"

"What the hell do I care about your dog? It was incredibly stupid from you to bring him here, if somebody sees him-"

"Oh calm down, we have to search for him!" he called and grabbed her arm.

"What – we – no! If you have to look for him then go alone, don't bring me into this! I'm waiting at the tent. And so should you, by the way, 'cause that's where he will search for you first."

Harry hesitated, not sure what to do. "Okay, then you go back and watch out for him. But I have to go looking – I don't want the Aurors to get him."

Daphne signed. "Fine! But do me a favor and don't run around like a headless chicken, will you?" She made sure nobody was within hearing range and continued: "Do you have Saliha?"

Harry patted his bag. "Still sleeping. How she does that with so much noise is beyond me."

"Wake her up then. This is a public place and you have quite a few enemies."

Harry nodded. At this point, it was painful for somebody to look into Saliha's eyes. He himself was protected a bit through him giving his blood at the ritual. But Daphne couldn't speak to her directly anymore. Time to get to Hogwarts and brew this damn potion.

As soon as Harry left, the Slytherin girl made her way to the Beauxbatons tent they were staying at. Quite a sight was awaiting her there: Three boys were laughing at the ground, petting a big black dog that was wagging his tail at them. Around them stood the French girls, some cooing at the dog, some turning around disgusted. The leader of them, a tall girl with silvery blonde hair, her nose stuck high in the air, was one of the latter. She cursed the dog quite loudly and tried to get the boys to chase him away. From what Daphne understood of her quick French, she was complaining about dirt and fleas.

Daphne, nearly growling with anger, strode forward confidently.

"What is the meaning of this? Who brought that dog here?" she asked furiously. "Such big animals are forbidden here."

"Ah, finally som'one with some mind!" the French girl said. Daphne thought she vaguely remembered her to be called Fleur.

"'Ou cannot bring tis dirty dog here! Som'one should alert Madame Maxime!"

"Were is she?" Daphne asked, "I could get her for you."

"I don't know. I tink she went to speak wit som'one from te ministry because of te-"

She stopped, but Daphne only narrowed her eyes slightly and didn't ask further questions.

"Well, he can't stay here. I'll take him with me and go searching for her, I think I saw her by the stands earlier."

"Tank you, girl", Fleur said graciously. Daphne could've strangled her. What did she dare to call her 'girl'?

The boys weren't all that happy that Daphne abducted their new pet. But they were short-handed (Beauxbatons didn't have that many boys) and Fleur insisted on getting the dog away from their tent.

As soon as Daphne was out of sight, hidden behind some trees, she turned around to the dog.

"What the hell are you thinking, Black, running away like that? Are you some kind of overgrown kid? This was utterly irresponsible of you, and why aren't you invisible?"

Sirius turned back into human and scowled at her.

"Heh, don't talk to me like that, will you?" he said annoyed. "It wasn't my fault. There's something very wrong going on here and I had to – wait, where's Harry?"

"He's looking for you, you stupid – argh, just what were you doing!?" she called frustrated. Daphne really had to hold onto her temper to not insult Black too much. He _did_ escape from the safest prison on earth after all and even if he didn't commit the crimes he was arrested for, who knew what kind of damage the dementors did with his head? If he wasn't insane when he was first brought to Azkaban, he certainly was now, after twelve years of suffering. Maybe she couldn't blame him for it, but she was wary nonetheless.

"Someone stole my wand, okay?!" he replied stressed.

Daphne opened her mouth, but for a moment she didn't find any words. "Someone saw you?!"

"No, damn it! And I didn't see the one doing it either. That's just it! It happened when Harry bumped into me, in the stadium, and I fell onto that empty seat. Only it wasn't empty. Someone was there, invisible just like me. I couldn't fight him very well but he didn't move that much, seemed to not want to attract attention. So I waited but kept track of him but then I noticed my wand gone and now – are you even listening to me?!"

"Someone discovered you, Black, stole your wand, I mean, how can you be that stupid, how can you be that careless?"

"I wasn't expecting to bump into another person wearing an invisibly cloak, alright? How the hell should I have known that?"

"Well, obviously this other person knew exactly what to do. We were in the top box, not on some standing sides. This isn't about someone smuggling in because he can't afford a ticket, only a criminal would have to wear an invisibly cloak at the Cup! You met some little friend of yours and you ask me to believe-"

"Bloody hell! It has to be a Death Eater! And now he's out there and Harry is too – I have to search for him, I-"

"You will do no such thing! You-"

"Oh shut it, girl!" Sirius called angrily. "I tried to be nice to you since you're helping Harry. But if you don't stop talking nonsense right now you'll get to know me, understood?"

Daphne licked her lips nervously. Finally, she nodded. What else could she do? He might not have a wand but he could still transform into a rather large dog with razor sharp teeth. She wouldn't be able to fight him, at least not without drawing attention. And if somebody found out about him being here there was no guarantee that Black wouldn't tell the officials that she knew about him but didn't alarm the aurors, just to spite her.

It was at that moment that she realized she couldn't turn back. She literally knew too much. She knew too much about Harry Potter's dirty secrets. Keeping them for blackmail was one thing, but those were secrets that were illegal not to tell to the ministry. If Black was caught now he'd drag her into this, be it because he didn't like Slytherins or because he didn't want Harry to socialize with her.

It was a real pain.

"Fine. I'll help you search for him", she said.

"You – what? Don't you want to stay here?" Sirius asked surprised.

"No, you – you're right", she pressed out. "Harry could be in danger. Let's go and search for him."

She could see that he was suspicious of her sudden change of heart, but in the end he decided that it didn't matter why she came along.

"Alright then. Do you know the point-me spell?"

Slowly, Daphne shook her head.

"Then I'll have to get myself a wand first." He looked around as if he expected to find one to lying on the ground.

Daphne, fearing for her own wand, which she would never, ever give to anyone, was thinking furiously about a way to distract the animagus. As it happened, she didn't have to. Because right at that moment there was an explosion that sent the Beauxbatons tent flying. Burning wood, earth and stones was spinning through the air and panicked screams were heard.

The Quidditch World Cup was under attack.


	5. The Dark Mark

Chapter five – The Dark Mark

"_Whoa, wait up!", Harry said and hold up his hands. _

_"__You mean to tell me that this Dark Lord Grindelwald ruled _

_over _three quarters _of Europe and was indirectly responsible _

_for the deaths of_ millions_of people – _

_but it's Riddles name nobody dares to speak aloud?!"_

Harry Potter to Seamus Finnigan

* * *

"I can't believe I'm doing this. Tell me, why am I doing this again?"

Sirius smirked at the girl, who wanted nothing more than to curse him to hell.

"What, have you never ever broken any rules?"

"Not out in the open where everyone could see me and where I would be charged for it, you...!"

Daphne swallowed her insult as she saw the dangerous glint in his eyes. Finally she just huffed and threw her arms into the air. "Fine! Let's assault a Death Eater."

Sirius wanted to go the straightforward path, but Daphne convinced him that a little planning was in order. After she made him swear to never mention any of this to anyone, Daphne swallowed her own pride and decided to go with the plan with the least amount of risk. So she crammed through the destroyed Beauxbatons tent whose inhabitants had long since fled the scene until she found some muggle clothes. After changing into them she made sure she looked adequately dirty and lost. Then the both of them ran into the direction of the flaming torches that could be seen in the distance.

The Death Eaters were busy letting helpless muggles hover upside down over their heads and destroying the tents so it was no problem to pass them unnoticed. Daphne found some broken beams and crawled under them, playing the damsel in distress.

Sirius, under the invisibility cloak again, sneaked as close as he could to the Death Eater group and, as soon as he had a chance, tripped one of them.

The Death Eater stumbled and cursed loudly, lost concentration and almost ended the hovering spell. The other Death Eaters just sneered at him, but the incident had the desired effect of him looking in the direction of the apparently terrified Daphne, who was trapped just in his line of sight.

Daphne began struggling harder, crying for help (just not too loud) as the Death Eater left the group and came towards her.

She cursed Sirius and his bloody stupidity for letting his stolen wand be stolen even more then she cursed her current situation. And she got really, really nervous as the Death Eater came closer. Sirius, that bastard, waited till the last second, when the group of Death Eater was already a good distance away. Only then did he throw the invisibility cloak aside, turned into a dog and tackled the Death Eater to the ground. Daphne winced slightly as sharp teeth buried itself into human flesh and the Death Eater cried out in pain. She freed herself of her self-inflicted prison and stumbled away as she watched in horror as the grim-like dog threw his head to one side, then the other, almost ripping the man's arm completely off.

"Stop it!" she called when the blood became too much for even her to bear, but the dog didn't listen to her. Panicked, Daphne stepped aside and grabbed a big stone. Her hands were shaking slightly and she made sure the Death Eater wouldn't look at her – luckily his mask got out of place during the struggle so it was unlikely he could see anything at all.

So Daphne dropped the stone directly on his head. The man stopped moving instantly.

Looking around she confirmed nobody had seen what had just happened. Sirius turned back, staring at the Death Eater in disbelief. For a moment there was silence.

"Just take his bloody wand", Daphne whispered a little hoarse.

Sirius swallowed hard and nodded.

"He still has a pulse", he informed the girl as he took the wand away from the unconscious man. "But he's out cold. With some luck the aurors will get him. I'll obliviate him, though, so he doesn't mention us."

"Yeah", she said tonelessly. "Right." Her last doubts about Black's true loyalties vanished that instant. Without immanent medical attention the man would likely lose his arm, not to mention a nice stay in Azkaban was waiting for him. Daphne bit her lip at the thought, but then pushed it away. It was his own fault for falling for her trap, right? And for coming here in the first place. It was true that her family had dark tendencies, and that they even supported some of the beliefs the 'Dark Lord' had claimed to protect. Just the way he went about it disgusted her. Not because of the suffering muggles – she couldn't care less about them, especially after she'd seen what those people did to an underage wizard in their care – but because of their sheer lack of subtlety. Honestly, what did they expect to achieve by coming here? They were spreading terror, nothing more. It's not as if they were still at war. They had absolutely no possibility to stand up to the threats they made today. They were just some petty minds who were sick of being forgotten, who still dwelled on the glory of their past days.

"Get over it already", Daphne muttered with cold eyes. She suppressed the urge to kick the injured.

"Let's find Harry", she said instead.

Sirius nodded and laid the new stolen wand on his palm. He muttered a spell and watched as the wand rotated, finally coming to a halt in a north, north-east direction. It was the same way the group of Death Eaters went.

* * *

Meanwhile, Harry was worried sick. As soon as he saw the Death Eaters in the distance he thought: Yeah, that's just my luck. Of course, Death Eaters would attack the World Quidditch Cup when he attended. Because there simply wasn't a better time, right? Things like that always happened to him.

But what's worse, this time it wasn't just him. Sirius was out there too and if the aurors caught him hiding under an invisibly cloak on a day of a bloody _Death Eater attack_ there was no chance that anyone would hear him out, let alone believe him that he didn't have anything to do with this mess. Furthermore, Harry knew that his godfather loathed Death Eaters and chances were good that he came to fight them or free the muggles. That would be a good thing in any situation other than this one. So he feared that instead of doing the intelligent thing and hiding where nobody could find him, Sirius would charge right into the danger. Which was why Harry did the same thing.

He fought his way through the crowd of screaming people, targeting for the light of the torches in the distance. The sight of the helpless muggles hovering upside down over the heads of the man with the skull-like white masks made his skin crawl. Some people who he supposed could be aurors were trying to get the crowd under control and away from danger instead of focusing on the source itself. Harry couldn't help but sneer at them before pulling his wand out.

That was the moment he realized that he didn't know any offensive spells.

"_Massster, thisss iss a bad idea!"_ Saliha protested. The snake must have awoken from all the noise. She was slithering out of his bag now and back to her place under his robes.

"_Maybe_", he agreed, "_but I have to save these people!"_

Cursing not-so-silently he threw himself behind a boulder just when one of the Death Eaters spelled the roof of a leftover souvenir stand to catch fire and fly right into another tent.

Harry searched his mind for any combat spells but came out empty-handed. Quirrell, aside from having a Dark Lord stuck on the back of his head, had been pretending to be incompetent and so had them read just some boring theory. Even if there were anything useful in it, Harry couldn't remember. Lockhart had been even worse, teaching them nothing but one very important lesson: to never free a bunch of pixies. While he would always remember that one, it didn't help him in his current position. Professor Lupin had been a great teacher, but he concentrated a lot on magical creatures. Neither the Patronus nor the Riddikulus-spell could help him against another wizard. Now that he thought about it – he learned everything in Defensive against the Dark Arts – except for how to defend against the Dark Arts.

It was depressing, really.

Luckily, Harry was a clever boy. The hat hadn't wanted to put him in Slytherin for nothing and his summer with Daphne had woken up some of those qualities he had long since forgotten that he had them. Like the ability to make an actual plan while improvising, instead of just rushing forward..

First, he cast a quick Notice-Me-Not on himself to not to be seen too soon. Then a Silencio on his feet to not to be heard. Slowly, Harry crawled closer. He couldn't see Sirius anywhere but that didn't mean anything. He had his invisibility cloak after all. But if Harry managed to distract the Death Eaters long enough so that the aurors would come and chase them away, then Sirius wouldn't have enough time to get himself into trouble by attacking them.

That decision made Harry leave his cover and he bolted to the right.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" he called and let the roof that one of the Death Eaters had set aflame hover over the earth. The man in the distance seemed to notice him, pointing at him. Harry aimed carefully and then flickered his wand just right. He wanted to let the roof fly so that it would crash directly before them on the ground, hopefully scaring them enough to go away.

Instead, the roof crashed right into the group of Death Eaters. Within seconds their black cloaks caught fire. Spells were fired in his direction and it was only thanks to ten year's worth of experience in dodging his cousin's punches that he was able to dodge them. Harry cursed as he saw the muggles fall between them. He shoot a quick Aguamenti to finish off the fire so they wouldn't get hurt. But as panicked as he was he put too much force behind his spell. A massive jet of water hit one of the Death Eaters (who just so happened to be about to speak a killing curse) and sent him flying a good five meters.

Now the Death Eaters were focused on him and maybe that would have been the day Harry Potter died – if it weren't for a truly pissed baby-Basilisk who was absolutely furious seeing someone attacking her master. She stuck her head out from under his robes and hissed at them angrily.

"_Don't you dare attacking my massster! I'll rip your heads of and eat your intestines! You're dead men walking!"_

Although they couldn't understand the death threats thrown at them the men were quite shocked to see the snake. Several of them actually dropped to their knees, clutching their heads and crying out in pain. The power of Saliha's eyes was so much more potent when she was actually eager to hurt somebody.

Now, several people in purple robes began joining the fight, giving Harry the opportunity to use another levitating spell to get the muggles out of danger. He had to bolt to the side when a dangerous-looking curse shot his way. It only grazed his arm, but that one burned like hell and his robe was soon beginning to get soaked with his blood.

"_Masster, are you alright?"_ Saliha asked worriedly.

"_Yes, yes, thank you for scaring these men, but you have to hide, please, nobody is supposed to see you!"_ Saliha led herself begrudgingly be shoved under his robes again.

Harry made his way through the burning debris. Now he thanked god for going with Daphne's advice to get his robes charmed fire-proof. When he reached the family there was already another wizard there.

"It's okay, I'm a healer", the man said when Harry lifted his wand.

"It's good someone finally saved them. You – wait a second, are you Harry Potter?"

"Uh..."

But Harry didn't get a chance to answer. Right at this moment scared cries and more panicked screams could be heard. Harry spun around, expecting to find more Death Eaters, but they were by now engaged in a real battle with the aurors. However, all fights came to an abrupt end as everyone seemed to freeze to stare at the sky.

"By Merlin's beard!" he heard the healer say. His face was ashen.

Confused Harry followed his line of sight. There on the black sky the smoking image of a green skull could be seen. A gigantic snake seemed to crawl out of its mouth.

"It's the Dark Mark!"

* * *

After the appearance of the strange sign in the sky all the Death Eaters were in a panic. Now even the last of them who hadn't fled when the aurors arrived, disapparated and fled the scene. Ten minutes later Harry was surrounded by a crowd of cheering people who all wanted to congratulate him for standing up against the Death Eaters.

Although he couldn't completely avoid the grin spreading on his face he wanted out of there as fast as possible. He still hadn't found Sirius after all. Furthermore, he didn't feel that he had done all that much. The aurors were the ones to keep the Death Eaters busy and him saving the muggles was more luck and a horrible aim then anything. Okay, and maybe it was due to him sneaking close with silencing and notice-me-not-charms, which, he admitted proudly, was a clever thing of him to do. Daphne would have been proud of him.

Speaking of Daphne he just saw her blonde head trying to get through the crowd to him.

"Pot- uh, Harry, we have to go. Our group is leaving", she told him when she was finally able to reach him.

"What about-"

"Everything's fine, we're only waiting for you", Daphne interrupted him. "Now come on."

In that very moment, there was a woman with ash blonde hair and shocking neon green glasses elbowing her way through the crowd of people wanting to shake his hand.

"Mr. Harry Potter! The savior of the day, how do you feel about-"

"I'm sorry, I have to go-"

But the woman grabbed his arm, and hard that is, and pulled him back. Harry starred at her a little dumbfounded. He had never met such a rude person.

"I'm Rita Skeeter from the Daily Prophet, would you mind telling me-"

"Didn't you hear him?" Daphne asked angrily. "He has to go now. If you haven't noticed, there's a Dark Mark in the sky, I think an evacuation is in order!"

Skeeter looked at her as if the girl was a particularly disgusting insect. It reminded Harry of the way his aunt used to look at him when he dared to interrupt her. Suffice to say he instantly disliked this Skeeter-person.

"And who might you be, Miss?" Her mimic changed instantly when she pulled out a large green feather out of her large green purse. "You don't happen to be his girlfriend, do you?"

"Think of me as his new manager", she answered sourly. "Since you're likely to write about the incident today, let me make you an offer: If we like what you're writing then you might just find us at Friday 12 am in the Leaky cauldron for an exclusive interview."

"Hey, I don't have time for this", Harry protested.

"Trust me, you do. Now come on, will you? We have to go back to the group." Harry, guessing that she probably meant Sirius, let himself be dragged away from the disappointed group. As soon as they were out of sigh however he freed himself.

"Where's Sirius?" he asked at once. "We have to find him, we-"

Just at that moment there was a happy bark. A big black dog crawled into the open from under some broken stands and wagged his tail at them.

"I found Sirius as soon as I was back at the Beauxbatons' tents", Daphne explained. "I told you it would be best to wait for him there! But no, you had to go and fight some Death Eaters!"

"How should I have known that they were to show up?" he answered, but then stopped himself. Truth to be told, he should have known, because something like that always happened to him. But she didn't have to know that, right?

"Yeah? Well, you were lucky. If Sirius hadn't hit the group with a wide spread paralyzing charm from behind you wouldn't have had a chance against them."

"You were there? Wait, both of you?"

Daphne looked away uneasily. "Well, your _dogfather _was protected through the cloak and there wasn't much I could do to hold him back anyway. So instead I made sure I found some aurors to get you out of the mess."

Sirius chose that moment to change back into his human self.

"We can talk about that later. We all know what the Dark Mark means, we have to leave now!"

"Searching for a portkey will take too much time. Can you apparate us?" Daphne asked.

"I'll have to", he said and grabbed both of them by their shoulders. "Hold on tight!"

And before Harry could do so much as blink he felt like the pressure around him increased tenfold. It was like squeezing himself through a really, really slim tube at a very high speed. It was worse than portkeying and definitely worse than flooing. The moment he had solid ground under his feet again, Harry stumbled away and emptied his stomach in a corner.

Daphne too looked a little bit green and for once refrained from sneering at him. When he looked around he noticed that they were in the park in Little Whinging again. It was in the middle of the night and nobody was around to look at them funny.

"What was going on there?" he asked as soon as he could stand again. "The Dark Mark – what does it mean?"

Daphne looked at him incredulously. "Are you telling me that you of all people do not know!?"

"Uh... has it something to do with Death Eaters?"

Sirius saved him from another embarrassing rant. "The Dark Mark is Voldemort's sign. In the times of war, when he and his followers raided entire villages...the mark was left in the sky. They left it over houses after assassinations too. It was meant to frighten people and it worked. When you came home and saw that mark hovering over the roof you knew that you'd find one of your loved ones dead."

Harry shivered slightly and it was not during to the cold breeze of the night air.

"So... So these Death Eaters... they killed someone tonight?"

Daphne shook her head. "I don't think so. The Death Eaters we saw weren't on a mission, they were only out for fun. When they saw the Mark they fled. There had to be another Death Eater out there. Either he just chose that moment of distraction to commit his own murder, or his only goal was to remind the others what it meant to be a follower of the 'Dark Lord'. That it wasn't about going around playing with helpless muggles. That it was something serious."

Sirius turned to her irritated. "You know that stuff, do you?"

She shoot him a death glare. "Yes I do. I'm not even sure that those hooded man were real Death Eaters at all. Could be drunken teenagers for all we know. What I am worried about is the one who made the mark. But that's for the aurors to investigate." She looked at her watch. "Okay, my parents will likely hear about what happened. I better go home. Don't forget our meeting on Friday, Potter."

"You won't tell anyone about me will you?" Sirius asked.

"She can't", Harry said smugly. "Or she'd have to explain why she didn't call the aurors as soon as she saw you."

Daphne stuck her nose in the air. "I don't think it'd be too late for that yet. He's the perfect scapegoat for the incident tonight, after all. They'll probably blame it on him, regardless of what I tell or don't tell them. Which means that I have no reason to do so, right?"

She pulled out one of her hair pins. "Going Home", she called and with a flash of green she was gone.

"Do you think she's right?" Harry asked when they began walking home. "Will they blame everything on you again?"

Maybe", Sirius answered. "If they don't find the culprit... But then again it's embarrassing enough for the ministry that they haven't found me yet. It may be easier to pretend that I'm out of the country." He sighed. "It would be bad if they did. I wanted to move in with Remus – as Padfoot, you know – but he has been monitored for the past months. They only took off the guards last week, but if they think I was at the cup they may come back."

"Professor Lupin has been monitored?" Harry repeated incredulously. "Why?"

"Because it's known that he's my friend. It was actually the reason why Dumbledore hired him in the first place, so that he couldn't be taken in for questioning. But now he lost his job, Snivellus swears he has been helping me – which he has but that's not the point – and with him being a werewolf and everything, well, you can imagine. I tried to contact him once and had a horde of aurors on my heels the day after. They had been intercepting his mail."

Harry bit his lip and looked to the ground. "Isn't that a problem here too?"

Sirius smiled and shook his head. "Nobody knows where you live, Harry. Not the aurors, not the press... Some know you're with your muggle relatives but not where they live. The few ones who know their names are either friends of yours or purebloods who do not know how to use a phone book. It's a secret kept by Dumbledore, who in turn doesn't tell anybody because the blood wards are supposed to keep me out anyway. Which doesn't work since I don't mean you any harm. So with us using the post box there is little to no danger of me getting caught contacting you."

They were already at the border of the park when Sirius stopped.

"I'll walk the rest of the way with you as Padfoot. We'll have to see how things turn out."

* * *

When Harry knocked at the Dursley's door at 3am, let's just say they weren't too pleased. They actually shut the door closed right before his nose and told him to sleep in the garden. Harry, tired as hell, already though about doing so. But Padfoot, who had waited behind the fence to make sure he got home safe, turned back into a man and came towards him.

"Magic can leave traces", he murmured as he pulled out a hair pin of his bag and began picking on the lock, "this can't. Go in and get some sleep. I'll keep you informed about what happens in magical Britain."

"Thanks", he whispered, before sneaking through the door. "You have to teach me that one. When do I see you again?"

"Maybe I can arrange to be with you on September 1st if you can get your relatives to drop you in London one or two hours early. Not sooner than that I'm afraid."

"I'll manage", Harry promised. "Don't get caught."

"You're forgetting you're speaking with a former master-marauder", he teased. "See you later, Prongslet."

And with a blur of black fur he was gone too.

"_You know",_ a soft hissing came from his bag, "_your robes are all ripped now. You'll have go shopping with Misssstress again for them."_

Oh joy.

* * *

It was the week after the Quidditch World Cup disaster and Harry was in panic. The reason: Daphne hadn't come to visit him.

He had expected her to wait for him in the park like always – but she didn't show up. He had waited but she didn't come.

It wasn't that he missed her – hell no! - but the Cup had come to an end very quickly and he had only been with her for two days. That was one day less than necessary to recharge the magic for Saliha's ritual. Three days out of ten, didn't she say that? And now she wasn't there and next week he had to enter Hogwarts again. He was so screwed.

So he sent Hedwig with a note to her, asking where she was and waited desperately for an answer.

She couldn't have forgotten, right? Or maybe it didn't need to be precisely three days, maybe it would be okay if he spent four in the next round? Yes, it had to be. There was no way he was doing that damn ritual all over again.

Sirius did a great job in cheering him up with his latest letter. There were two articles from the Daily Prophet too. One was about him heroically saving a dozen muggles from an army of Death Eaters at the Quidditch World Club (it was written so hilariously he had to laugh) and another was a side note about Severus Snape taken into custody. He read that one twice just to make sure. But there was no mistake, the aurors believed him to be the one who had cast the Dark Mark. It even said that Snape was suspected to be a Death Eater in the war but was vouched for by none other than Dumbledore himself and freed of all charges. Truth to be told, Harry had always thought Snape to be a slimy bastard, evil to the core and yes, a follower of Voldemort did fit into that picture. Getting caught did not.

So with a lot of curiosity Harry read Sirius's letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_The aftermath of the Cup is almost greater than the thing itself. Not only are you a celebrated hero (and totally deservedly so) but they got Snivellus for questioning! I made a victory dance for half an hour. If I owned a flat I'd think about getting that article framed. It's the greatest prank ever._

_On a more serious note: There's still a real Death Eater out there and I want you to be careful. I think I even ran into him. It was on the stands during the game when I was pushed on that empty seat. Only that it wasn't empty. There was someone else there under an invisibly cloak. He must've snatched my wand there and then made the Mark with it. The prophet doesn't say much about it, but I think they found the wand somewhere in the woods. The guy stole it from me and I stole it from Snivellus, so they blame him. I don't think he'll actually go to in jail. Dumbledore will bust him out again, he's not the type for Quidditch so he wasn't likely to be even near the place. But it will be embarrassing for him to admit how he lost his wand. Especially since everybody at Hogwarts saw that owl bringing it back. That was one of Zonko's better inventions by the way, a fake wand that turns into a rubber duck when somebody attempts a spell. I know I promised you to bring it back, but I just couldn't resist. And he deserved it too._

_Unfortunately, that means I'm the scapegoat again. Which sucks because it means the real man will get away with it. But it was worth it. Kind of._

_Say hi to your girlfriend for me,_

_Snuffles_

It was unfair – maybe it was even cruel – but Harry had to grin as he read about Sirius' prank. He spent some minutes just imagining Snape's face as he tried to spell his hair clean or something and his wand turned into a rubber duck. That was definitely a thought he could use for making a patronus.

But Sirius' letter wasn't the only one he got after the Cup. Finally he got an answer from Daphne:

_Potter,_

_Don't worry about the project, it'll be fine. Just remember to meet me at Friday 9am to prepare for your interview._

_D._

It was short and to the point but he didn't care as long as he didn't have to do any dark rituals. The next letter he got, though, was a lot less appealing.

_WHAT THE HELL!?_

_I thought you were practically imprisoned at your relatives! I felt sorry for you because you couldn't go to the match with us and now Dad said you were there! What, are you too good for the standing places? Why didn't you tell me that you already got a ticket? I can't believe you lied to me! I thought we were best friends but you've been such a bastard lately!_

Harry sighed. He felt really bad about not telling Ron. Quidditch was the most important thing to him. But Harry really hadn't known that he would go to the Cup when he told Ron so. It was only at his birthday that he got the tickets and even then he couldn't have gone if he didn't take Daphne with him because of that damnable ritual. And if he told Ron that he went with a Slytherin to the Quidditch Cup instead of him, well... Daphne always said it was easier asking for forgiveness than for permission. She was so right.

_Harry,_

_Are you alright? I read in the prophet about what happened at the Cup and I'm so worried about you! They said you fought alone against a dozen or so Death Eaters! What were you thinking, that was far too dangerous! And why were you alone anyway, weren't you there with Ron?_

_Please tell me you're alright,_

_Hermione_

_PS: How's Saliha doing? Was it alright leaving her alone with your relatives while you were gone?_

The letters showed him more then he wanted to know how he had neglected his friends and kept secrets from them. Hermione knew about Saliha and Daphne but not about the cup. Harry had figured that she wouldn't approve of him going there alone – worse, together with Sirius. So he hadn't told her, just like he didn't tell Daphne. And it was alright, wasn't it? Everything went fine. Well, except for the Death Eater attack but that wasn't his fault. Right? Well, maybe. It was just his luck. But still!

He guessed before she heard it from anyone else, he should admit the worst to Hermione at least. So he wrote her about bringing a mutual friend along who had bought him the tickets and got his wand stolen but there weren't repercussions for him. He also admitted having to go with Daphne and Saliha in tow because of Saliha's 'condition'. Even with the post box he was still careful not to include too many details and promised to explain when they met next time.

He didn't know what to write to Ron though and just hoped he'd cool down by the time they went to Hogwarts.

* * *

By the time Friday came along, his relatives were so used to him being gone for a day or two that they didn't even ask where he was heading when he left the house and walked the few blocks to the park. Then he made sure nobody was aroundand held out his wand in order to call the Knight Bus. Once on the bus he changed into some plain black robes that had the benefit of magically enlarged bags in which he could hide Saliha. He arrived at the Leaky Cauldron ten minutes early.

"Ah, Mr. Potter", Tom greeted him with a smile. "I received your reservation. Room 306 is prepared for you."

Slightly baffled, Harry nodded and went upstairs. Said room was empty except for a bookcase, a table with four chairs and a mirror opposite of the door. Daphne was right on time, wearing some dark green everyday robes and sporting a slightly sour look.

"Daphne! Finally you're here", Harry called. "You know, you could've told me a little bit more in that letter of yours. I was worried we would have to do the ritual again."  
Daphne raised an eyebrow. "Why the hell would we do that, Potter?"

"Well..." He hesitated. "You know, the thing about the magic recharging? We having to meet on three out of ten days?"

"Oh. Yeah, I forgot about that one, sorry."

"Sorry!? Daphne, what the hell!?"

"Calm down, Potter. You really believed that nonsense? Blood rituals are bound to blood. It's completely irrelevant who's doing the ritual itself. If you knew at least the basics of Dark Arts you'd know that."

Harry stared at her some more. "Then why...?"

"After the ritual, what kind of reason would you have had to meet with me before the beginning of the school year? Right, none. I needed to spend more time with you until I was irreplaceable again."

Harry practically shook with fury. "Because of you I didn't take my best friend to the Cup! Because of you I had to lie to Ron and he hates me know!"

"Good for you. The Weasleys have a bad influence on you."

"The hell!? The Weasleys are the nicest family I ever met! I won't have any of your prejudices-"

"It's not about prejudices, stupid!" she ranted. "I don't care that he's light or poor or a blood traitor. But have you ever really looked at his family? Out of all the Weasley brothers, you picked the most useless of them as a best friend. One is a prefect, two are crazy but most inventive geniuses – Ron is nothing! He's an _ant_ compared to you. You are about to become a bloody star. Even if you hadn't lied to him, do you really think he could get over his own jealously? Even if you go and beg him on your knees now, he'll ditch you first chance again when he recognizes that he can never stand up to you."

"He would never do that! What are you saying, I should just leave all of my friends and be an evil Slytherin?"

"That's not what I said. You're a hero, you're supposed to help the weaker ones. You're supposed to be their idol, their leader. But don't let them get too close to you. If you start calling someone your best friend, he feels that he is equal to you. The moment he realizes that he is not he won't stand being close to you. He'll feel jealous and betrayed. That's why you should only make friends that are actually able to hold a candle to you. Granger is fine – she's got the intelligence if nothing else. I'm fine – I've got the connections. Even your dogfather is fine, he's got the knowledge and capability of a fighter. But everyone else – sorry, but you should stay away from them."

"The hell I'll do that! You won't tell me who my friends are."

Daphne huffed angrily. "Very well then. Just keep digging your own grave. But that's not what we're here for. Let's just get this over with. I haven't exactly slept well and my parents don't know I'm here..."

"Having to sneak out to meet with the Boy-Who–Lived?" Harry asked still fuming.

Daphne shoot him a dark look. "And there I was thinking you hated that name."

He scowled. "I don't like to be called a boy. It's as if the world still sees me as a baby."

"Well, you certainly didn't manage to pull something as great as defeating a Dark Lord ever since then."

"That's not true! I already fought Voldemort twice on my own! And both times I defeated him. ...sort of."

Daphne tried to hide her flinch, then scowled. "When the hell did you do that?"

"Don't you remember? In our first year, Voldemort-"

"Would you please stop saying that name?" the Slytherin asked irritated.

"Fear of the name just increases fear of the thing itself", Harry cited smugly.

Daphne shook her head. "It's not about fear, stupid. It's about respect."

"Well, guess what, I don't respect Voldemort!"

"And what about His victims?" Daphne asked piercingly. "There are lots of people who lost somebody to the Dark side. They're scared and even horrified just thinking about it. Some of them were tortured and are still traumatized. Hearing His name will just upset them, and force them to remember their loss. Do you want to bring those memories back?"

"Of course not but-"

"Then don't call Him by His name."

Harry furrowed his brow. "But it does sound as if I fear him when I'm calling him You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. And I don't want to give people the impression of that. I mean, what's it to you anyway? He didn't kill your parents, did he?"

"No", Daphne responded between gritted teeth. "But I had an uncle who was a convicted Death Eater. He was caught when I was six, blew up himself and three aurors before they could put him into Azkaban... I didn't know him well but there isn't a day I'm not aware that my family, although neutral, is also tainted by the Dark."

Harry couldn't stand her gaze and looked away. He had never thought about it but it was true: Not only the Light families had lost members in the war. Voldemort was like a symbol for their deaths for them, regardless of which side they belonged to. Even if he had absolutely no sympathy for the Death Eaters, he could still feel with their innocent families.

"Alright then... But what's the alternative?" he asked. "I certainly won't call him Dark Lord."

"No, you shouldn't. Calling him that would be honoring the acts of him and his followers and they went too far down the road for even for me to be comfortable calling Him by that title."

"I could always call him Tom", Harry murmured.

"Excuse me?" She stared at him.

"Well, that is his given name, isn't it? Tom Riddle."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Nope. That's what I was about to tell you. In my first year, Voldemort's – err, his spirit was stuck to the back of Professor Quirrell's head. He was trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone that was hidden in Hogwarts after it wasn't safe in Gringotts to get his own body back, but I got it before he could. I defeated Quirrell and he fled. Then in my second year there was this cursed diary. It belonged to him when he was still a student himself and he left some kind of imprint, a memory of his sixteen year old self in the diary, which then possessed people to open the Chamber of Secrets. In the end, I killed the Basilisk that was attacking the students and destroyed the diary, thus defeating him yet again. And I found out his name was actually Tom Marvolo Riddle. He's a half-blood."

For some seconds Daphne only stared at him open mouthed. Finally she whispered. "Harry – if this is true – if this is really true – do you have _any_ idea what it would mean to the wizarding world if they ever knew about it? Not only Him being a half-blood, but also you having stood up against Him so often... If I had ever thought contacting you was a bad idea, you just proved me wrong."

"Er, thanks?"

"Don't thank me, you bloody idiot!"

"Sorry, but-"

"Don't apologize either! You're a damn hero, you have to learn to act like one." Daphne leaned back. "Unfortunately nobody would believe your stories if you were to tell the papers and if people like Dumbledore who could've confirmed it have never spoken about it then they aren't likely to do it now either... You're all over the paper now because of the Cup, maybe we can use that."

"To do what?" Harry asked alarmed.

"Harry, you fought Him twice! Twice, not counting the one time as a baby, and you're still alive! The world has to know about that. For most of the people you're already a symbol of hope. And you do have the potential to really change something in this world. Don't you want people to know what you sacrificed for them? You could be so powerful. You would have so much influence, more control over your own life."

"I'm not sure this is a good idea... If Dumbledore really wanted to keep it secret, maybe he had a good reason to do so."

"Dumbledore?" Daphne repeated incredulously. "The same Dumbledore who didn't lift a finger when your supposedly innocent godfather was sent to prison without a trial? The same Dumbledore who left you with the muggles? The same Dumbledore who put an object like the Philosopher's Stone in a school full of little children when he knew there was someone dangerous enough to break into Gringotts after it? Telling the whole school not to enter the third floor because obviously no one would be curious? Are we talking about the same Dumbledore? By proving yourself independent from him you could get your own life back!"

"I – well, I mean-" But then her words sunk in. "Wait a second. Does that mean when I tell people about how I can take care of myself... I wouldn't have to go back to the Dursleys?"

Daphne felt like she should slap him for thinking first about something so unimportant.

"What the – I mean, yeah, sure. I told you to get a lawyer weeks ago. If your parents didn't totally hate you there should be a will with a list of people supposed to care for you. And even if Black were to be the only one – which would be quite irresponsible – then he would have the right to appoint another guardian for you. And even if he can't do that without surrendering to the Law Enforcement there are still possibilities. You could go to the paper and tell everyone that they're abusing you, for example. It doesn't have to be true but the scandal would be huge and if your relatives then say they don't want to have you back it should be possible with a good lawyer to put yourself up for adoption or make you a charge of the school or something. With enough publicity, maybe you could even get emancipated."

"Could I get people to listen to me about Sirius?" Harry asked eagerly. "To convince them that he's innocent so that I could live with him?"

"I'm not sure", Daphne said hesitantly. "You should be careful with that subject. Maybe they'd think that you're confunded and never listen to you again. But..."

"But?"

"But if you pretend to think that he's a Death Eater and that you only want him, as your official guardian, after you got rid of the Dursleys, to name a new one... Then you could tell them you want to play the bait. Make an official statement, a deal with the Law Enforcement. Something like he won't be persecuted if he meets with you to sign the official papers or something. He'll agree because he's crazy and he waits for a chance to kill you. But in truth there're aurors hidden everywhere. They'll catch him, but it will be your condition that Sirius won't get the kiss until he assigned you a new guardian – one that you could still refuse of course in case he assigns another Death Eater. So then Sirius' condition would be that he is to be given a trial if he is to sign your papers. That is his legal right and you could assign him a lawyer anonymously too. If he really never killed anyone then there has to be proof other than Pettigrew. Even if he's still sentenced for treason because of your parents – that one doesn't give you a life sentence. He probably already has enough years to pay for that. Sirius would be free and you would be able to live with him."

"That would be great", Harry said, "but there are too many risks in that."

"You could hire a lawyer beforehand and only begin the plan if he finds proof. The hard part would be to get him a trial and for that you'd have to be a public person. You'd have to be the hero of the world. You can do that. I can help you becoming the person everyone else already sees in you."

Harry bit his lip and though about it.

"Fine", he said finally. "If there's any chance I can free Sirius with it... I'll do everything."

"Perfect." Daphne grinned. "Now the trick is to let the reporters find out about the huge secrets by themselves. We only have to give them some hints where to search..."

And so they began going through all the questions Daphne expected the reporter to ask, telling him how to drop certain pieces of information just right. For example she told him:

"People have to see you as a modest person, even if there's no reason for you to be so. You don't just blurt out that you've fought Him, you just leave a hint like: 'These Death Eaterswere different from what I though them to be, I mean, look at Professor Quirrell.' If she wants further information, just tell her that it's in the past or something. She'll search for it all by herself."

"I didn't have any intention of boasting about killing my Defense teacher..." Harry said scowling.

"Perfect! That's the right attitude. The modest heroes are always the ones with the most fans."

Another time they argued about the still unsolved problem of what to call Voldemort:

"How about 'the Great Snake'?", Daphne asked. "It certainly fits."

"No, that sounds too... honorable. I'd rather call Him Snakey than putting a 'great' anywhere near his name."

"Absolutely not", she refused. "You have to be careful to not to ridicule Him. It will make lots of people angry, because again you're also ridiculing His victims with it."

"Then what about ridiculing Him indirectly by saying the truth?" Harry asked. "What about 'Riddle'? He isn't Tom anymore, he isn't sixteen. But it is a reminder of him being a half-blood. That would make the purebloods angry but also give them a reason to think it over. It wouldn't be too respecting, on the contrary, it would make him more human. This would make it easier for the victims too, I think. I mean, I feel better knowing the one who killed my parents is just a man, not some phantom or semi-god-like wizard."

"You know, that is actually a really good idea", Daphne thought aloud.

"Don't be so surprised..."

"No, really! The name even kind of fits him. Riddle. That doesn't evoke such fear. Even has kind of a ring to it. Yes, I think that name may work for us."

"What should we tell people when they ask what our relationship is?" Harry asked when he noticed their time was almost up and the reporter would come shortly.

"Oh, there's someone thinking!" Daphne called sarcastically. "I already thought about throwing you in at the deep end."

"Well, thank you. But honestly – you're a bit too young to by my 'manager' and a bit too Slytherin to be my friend. You're a bit too pure to be a distant relative and a bit too nice to be the evil puppet master using me for her own purposes."

"Did you... just insult me, Potter?"

"Do you feel insulted?" he retorted smirking.

Daphne leaned back and crossed her arms. "Okay", she admitted. "I'm impressed. You're making real progress here. But if you're excluding all these possibilities we end up as a couple again."

"What the – that was not what I wanted to hear!"

"We could always say your parents and my parents arranged a marriage for us while being particularly drunk before we were even born."

"...I hate you. So much."

Daphne didn't have time to answer with more than an evil smirk before the door opened and they were blinded by a sudden flash of light.

Rita Skeeter and her photographer had entered the room.

The show was about to begin.

* * *

XxX

AN: Im sorry you guys had to wait so long. I was busy moving to another place and doing lots of paper work. But luckily my wonderful beta gave me this chaper back within a day once it was finished, so you can get it now.

I'm always amazed how many people are following/favoring thi story. Even if only a fraction of of them are actaully reviewing. Thats okay, though. Just remember - you giving me advice or suggestions can only make this fanfic better.

Until the next chapter,

astala7


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